#i could talk about food all day feel free to send me more asks about it and i will happily reply <3

[sheryl-lee]

hey sameera! do you like to cook? and if so, what are your fave meals to make? and what do you enjoy eating in general?

hi and yes i do - my mom is an amazing cook (her food is just... *chef's kiss*) so i've been apprenticing under her tutelage dfjdjfkdf we bought an airfryer about a year ago and it's my favorite thing in the world <3

i eat a lot of protein (meat/seafood) and veggies, so i love trying new marinades, sauces, stir frys, etc and just experimenting. salmon is my favorite fish of all time, but i've recently been purchasing ahi tuna and searing it and oh. it's delicious!!! my other go-to proteins are chicken breast and beef, and i typically serve broccoli and cauliflower (my beloved) or a salad with it.

other than that, i'm a big fan of cheese and try to pick something new from the grocery store to try every now and then (greek, french, and italian cheeses are SO. GOOD.). to me, there's nothing better than some cheese paired with a red apple (honeycrisp or pink lady apples are my favorite <333) and whole grain bread. i also LOVE greek yogurt. in the mornings i have yogurt and a cup of coffee that i pour my protein shake in - it's great pre-exercise fuel!

as a proud indian (we have the best cuisine let's be real), indian food is my absolute favorite of course - when we eat out, i usually go for lamb vindaloo/roganjosh, butter chicken, gyros, chicken tikka, etc etc etc. i also love afghan food - yellow rice with raisins and carrots 🫶 beef skewers 🫶 kababs 🫶 i could go on and on!!!

[doitforbangchan]

Little Tease - Bangchan

This is a request by the lovely @softkisshyunjin who wanted Chan rizzing up stay and then getting teased my reader <3 I hope it's everything you hoped for my dear

This is soooo delulu, please do NOT do what reader does here :)

Masterlist

Not proofread :)

Idol!Chan x Fan!reader (afab)

Warnings: Smut, protected p in v, kissing, fingering, masterbation, spitting in mouth, dom! chan, sub! reader, condescending! Chan, he is kind of a cocky jerk here lol

WC: 3k

MDNI 18+

He was an absolute menace. Chan knew exactly what he was doing, sending those messages out for Stay on bubble. You could imagine him kicking his feet like a schoolgirl while sending them out. You guessed it was his favorite pastime, considering every message got more and more teasing. Asking Stay to come over and he would send the address if they were to ask. And that he would even come to us. Yeah right. 

You figured why not try to tease him back? It wasn’t like he would even respond so what was the harm? You decided to send one yourself. 

‘Big talk for someone with no balls, Christopher. We all know you won’t show up.’ that had you cackling, wanting to send more, maybe make it a little flirty. 

‘Its a real shame too, I just know how you would throw me around if you were here.’ 

‘Oh well, guess I’ll have to take care of myself.’ 

That one made you feel a little bold. Before you stop your impulsive thoughts you sent him a picture of you in your bra and panties, and attached your address. Now it was you who was giggling like a schoolgirl. Even if he would never see them you still found it entertaining. It was the only chance you would ever get to tease him back, so who cares? 

It had been 4 days since the messages you sent back on bubble. Honestly you had forgotten it even happened, putting into the back of your mind since you knew nothing would come from it. You had assumed, anyway. 

It was a Friday night around 10:30  and you were just getting back home from a very disappointing first date. You had been set up through a mutual friend so you decided to give it a shot. Unfortunately he turned out to be like every other guy you had been out with recently; pompous and self absorbed. The guy only talked about how great he thought he was, and how any woman would be out of her mind not to fall at his feet. He gave you the ick right away, but you figured you would get free food out of it so whatever. 

You had just closed the door after letting yourself inside,  flipping on the light and barely able to get off your shoes when a knock on your door alarmed you. ‘Who would be at my door so late?’ With your heel in hand like a weapon you slowly creaked the door open just a smidge, keeping the chain locked. 

It was hard to see who it was, the man standing there had a black beanie and a face mask covering their mouth. 

“Are you Y/n?” They asked, voice sounding eerily familiar. 

“Depends who's asking?” You replied, with a touch of snark.

The stranger laughed quietly, again it sounded very familiar to you but you couldn’t place it. 

“Oh just someone who apparently has no balls.” 

Oh my fucking god no way. 

“C-chris?” Fuck why did you stutter 

“The one and only.” He pulled down his mask enough for you to see the bottom half of his face. 

“What are you doing here?” You were so shocked at seeing the idol, your bias no less, at your doorstep, but you still unlatched the chain on your door. 

Chris leaned against the door frame when you opened it wider, giving your body a quick look over, seeing you in your skimpy dress, then coming back to your eyes. “You told me too, even sent me your address.” He smirked at you when the realization dawned on your face. “Can I come in?” 

You hastily stepped aside to let him in. As if you would ever deny him. Chris stepped in and closed the door behind him, then secured the top lock. He glanced around the living room of your apartment, before his eyes found your nervous body standing before him and ringing your hands. 

You could barely breathe, having him so close, in your home no less, was the craziest thing to ever happen to you. So far. 

“Umm w-would you like a drink or something?” The nerves were still racking through you. 

“Sure. Thank you.” 

You nodded and scurried your way to your kitchen, pulling out a few options. Did he like wine? Or maybe he was a sparkling cider kind of guy? You were about to turn and ask him his preference when you felt a presence behind you, a breath on your neck. Not just any presence, it was Chris. 

“You know,” he began, “ that was quite a naughty thing to do. Sending those pics to a man you don’t know and attaching your address.” His fingers lightly brushed your hair away from the side of your neck and you felt him lean on closer. He could feel your breath catch in your throat at his actions. “And telling me I have no balls, if you weren’t so damn pretty I might have let that slide. Unfortunately I am not a strong enough man to resist a pretty little minx who needs to be put in her place.” His voice was getting raspier as he spoke. 

‘He called me pretty!’ The way you focused on that statement was unhealthy, the simple words filling you with a desire for this man you had never felt. Then the other half of his words caught up with you. 

“Put me in my place?” 

“Mmhmm.” Chris hummed and put his hands on your waist, quickly spinning you around to face him as he pushed you up against the counter in your kitchen. You let out a squeak at the sudden force. “Seeing you in those frilly little panties did something to me. I’ve never felt this ravenous for a fan before.  There is something special about you y/n. Will you let me show you?” He held a deep gaze on your eyes, asking for your consent. 

It was an easy answer, “Yes Chris of course.” 

As soon as you answered he put his lips directly on yours, a clash of teeth and spit. It felt like he was trying to consume you with the way he kissed you, tongue wasting no time before shoving itself into your mouth. You wrapped your arms around his neck, needing to be closer. This felt like a fever dream, but you weren't one to look a gift horse in the mouth so you would let him take all he wanted from you. 

Chris tightened his grip on your hips and lifted you to sit on the counter that was behind you. His hands were warm as they ran up your thighs, slipping under your dress. You let out a quiet whimper when he made contact. He was so close yet not close enough. 

“Don’t be shy, now. You weren’t shy when you sent me those pics huh? What happened to that girl?” He pulled back enough to smirk at you, giving a bite to your lip as he went. You couldn’t find your words, too enthralled by him to form a sentence. At your silence he tutted in mock disappointment and let his mouth fall to your neck, mouthing at the skin there and laughing when you moaned. “Tell me sweet thing, why did you tease me like that?” 

“I-i didn’t think you would see it.” you squealed when he nipped at your neck. “ You w-were being the tease, Chris.” 

“You’re right, baby, I was being mean wasn't I?” He let his fingers find the side seams on your panties, hooking his thumbs under the fabric. “I was riling up my poor stays, they don’t deserve that, do they?” He was cooing at you, almost making fun of you.

 Had this been any other man you wouldn’t have taken his menial words and demeanor. But this wasn’t any other guy, this was Bangchan. This was the man you’ve thirsted after for years.Someone you thought would never even know you existed. And for some reason you didn’t mind the way he talked to you. If anything it felt good. Felt like you were letting go of your inhibitions and letting this man, who obviously you don’t know- but it almost felt like you did know him. You had been following his group and him for so long. 

“No, t-they didn’t deserve i-it.” You could not stop stuttering, nor could you catch your breath. 

“Should I atone for that, sweetheart?” His thumbs were slowly pulling down your underwear, so slowly you almost didn’t register it at all. “Should I make up for it right now, with you? With my precious stay?” 

Once your panties were slipped down enough that they dropped off onto the floor, he paused his movements as if waiting for an answer. It took you a moment to gather yourself enough to answer. 

“Yes, please use me to make it up. Please, Channie.” 

That seemed to set him off, his fingers going to your core and finding your clit with ease. You let out a whimper at the contact, hips raising to get even closer. You could feel his mouth back on your neck, sucking the skin and surely leaving hickeys. Reminders that this is real. 

Chris hummed into you as he let the digits find your opening and flick up and down, sloshing through your wetness. You couldn’t find it in you to be embarrassed though. “Do you want my fingers, sweetheart?” He still had that condescending tone, knowing damn well you wanted them. He just wanted to hear you say it. There had always been speculation that Chan was a dominant guy in bed, at least now you could confirm that for yourself. 

“Mmhmm please.” you nodded rapidly. 

He wasted no time in pushing his two fingers into your heat, the thickness of them stretching your walls. You let out a throaty moan, the intrusion feeling delicious. So good it almost made you forget this was all happening on your kitchen counter. Almost. 

“Chris.” you panted, trying to get his attention by tapping on the shoulders you were gripping. 

“Hm?” he mumbled while pistoning his fingers inside you, adding another one as he made the sound. 

You were nervous to ask, but figured it was worth a try. “Can- can we maybe take this to my bedroom?” 

He hummed as if thinking about it, then without a word, he scooped you up into his arms. You pointed in the direction of your room and the man headed that way without a struggle. He didn’t even seem to be straining while holding you, his strength coming in clutch. 

Chris went through the door you pointed to and unceremoniously dropped you on your bed. The sight of you; panting and glassy eyed, dress riding up your hips to expose your cunt to him, made him harder than he cared to admit- the tightness in his pants becoming too much to ignore. 

You really were an exquisite beauty. He knew the second he laid eyes on your form in that picture you sent that he would somehow have to find his way here to you. He would never admit it but the thought had been plaguing him for days. Fuck, the man flew across the world for this. Luckily it hadn’t been in vain, as you seemed to want him as much as he wants you. 

Chris’s gaze felt scrutinizing, as if every twitch you emitted was being memorized by him. Little did you know it was exactly what he was doing. He wasn’t one to fuck around with fans (he left that for Hyunjin and Jeongin) but he was enjoying himself and wanted to commit this to his memory. 

“Tell me, sweetheart,” He drawled out as his hand went to the tent that was present in his pants, “Am I your bias? Have you thought about me like this before?” You couldn’t meet his stare, giving yourself away to him without having to say anything. “Hmm I am huh? I would have thought with the way you act online maybe you would have preferred maybe Lee Know to be here making a mess of you. Or even Seungmin.” You rapidly shook your head in protest to his words. “No? So you don’t want me to leave you here and call one of my boys to come help you instead?” 

He was being patronizing but you still answered earnestly “No please! Only want you!” You don’t know what you would do if he left right now, you were so needy for him you had started to cry. 

“You only want me?” He pointed to himself, grinning when you nodded. “Prove it. Show me what you do to yourself when you think of me.” 

His stare was menacing, almost challenging. He wanted to see if you would follow his orders. You looked like a deer caught in the headlights, scared and frozen. Chris wondered if maybe he was taking it too far with you, but was mistaken when you laid flat on your bed and your fingers nervously trailed down your exposed thighs and to your wet entrance. 

You both let out a whimper when your fingers entered your hole, the slick sounds resonating in the room. If this is what he wanted you weren't going to deny him. Chris stood over you while you played with yourself, his own palm rubbing himself through his underwear, he had pulled his sweats down enough to rub over the opposing fabric. 

He lost it when you whined his name, unable to contain his urges any longer. He shoved his boxers down his legs and let them along with his sweats fall to the floor, before he pounced on you. You gasped as Chris caged you under him and ripped your fingers out of yourself. “Chris?!” 

“You really are a fucking tease arent you?” He went to line himself up before his senses came back to him. “You got a condom, pretty girl?” 

“In th-the bedside t-table.” You pointed to the table beside you. 

Chris reached into the drawer and pulled out an unopened box of condoms, giving you a raised eyebrow. “It’s been a while.” You shrugged sheepishly. 

He chuckled and pulled one out of the box, ripping it open with his teeth and rolling along his hardened length. “Think you can take all this, baby girl?” there was that cocky attitude you were growing to love. 

“Please. Want it Channie.” 

That was the go ahead he needed, lining up to your entrance and pushing into your heat slowly. 

“Fuuuck.” He groaned out while you cried against him. He was breathing heavy, you were so tight he was suffocating within you.It didn’t help that he was the biggest you had ever taken. If you hadn’t been so wet the stretch of him would have been painful for you. But instead it was delectable, a welcome burn. 

When you bucked your hips up into him he took that as his hint to move, and he began a punishing pace. His own hips meet yours as you thrust into the air. You could feel his balls slapping against your ass, you’re arousal coating them and adding to the filthy sounds resonating in your room. It all sounded so wet. 

When you opened your mouth to let out a high pitched moan Chan took the opportunity to grip onto your cheeks, keeping your mouth open for him as he spat directly on your tongue. “Be the good girl I know you can be and swallow it. Swallow my essence, sweetheart.” You did so with no hesitation, opening your lips to show him. “Nnggg so fucking good for me, for your bias.” 

His words alone could make you cum, already feeling yourself on the edge from all the playing he did with you. You clenched on him at the praise he gave you, causing him to groan again and drop his face into your chest, suckling your skin harshly. He wanted you to remember him after he is gone. 

Or maybe he would keep you. 

It sure was tempting to keep a sweet girl with such a sweet pussy. He could even share you with the other boys, he is sure they would love a taste of you once he tells them about you.

“Channie…. ‘M close.” 

Chris nipped your skin once before bringing his fingers down to where you were connected, finding your clit and massaging roughly. “Come on, little tease. Give it to me. Make me proud and cum.” 

At his instruction you fell over the edge, cumming with a deafening cry of his name. Chris wasn’t far behind you, the clenching on his cock sending him to orgasm. You writhed under him as you felt the warmth of his cum filling you up,albeit inside the condom he wore.

Chris pumped himself within you once, twice and a final third time as he rode out his high. After your quaking was over he slowly pulled out of you, both too sensitive for anything else. The idol pressed a final kiss to your mouth before removing himself from you completely. He wandered over to the trash can you had in the corner of your room and disposed of the rubber. 

You laid there on your bed completely fucked out, mind in a haze as you watched him pull his boxers back on. He turned to you with a boyish grin. 

“So tell me you little tease, who has no balls now?” 

Comments and reblogs are very much appreciated!

©doitforbangchan

[carmenized-onions]

Ad Interim. | No Service

logline; The days and doubts and desires; the air, underneath the shoe.

[!!!] series history, this is the ninth; the amount of links are getting nauseating just go to the landing LMAO.

Spotify Playlist, if you like to listen while you read. I listen to it when I write :) Constantly gettin’ added to. I listen to this playlist too much in my day to day now, fr.

portion; 3k+

possible allergies; you're almost ten chapters in, you know very well by now that these two are rife with anxiety and insecurity.

pairing; Carmen ‘Carmy’ Berzatto & Fem Reader (gets she/her'd mb)

fun fact: i finished this one 19 hours after the last chapter, whoops, but let it sit in my drafts to give some breathing room and do some rework

It is t-minus three days, until the worst Friday of your life.

But today’s Tuesday, and though you feel a touch uneasy, you figure it’s probably just the breakfast from yesterday at La Mattina settling in your stomach— Or, at least, hope it is.

You’re at home, sitting on your couch, pensive, haggard, leaned over. Elbows to knees, prayer hands to face, staring at your phone on the coffee table in front of you.

Just send it. Just send the text. Don’t be a fucking wuss. You’ve re-written it in your notes app like five fucking times— He does not care this much, he doesn’t even have basic reading comprehension— Okay, that’s mean— But it’s just not that deep. Just fucking! Send it!

Actually no, no, upon sixth review, the paragraph you had written out was way too intense, way too presumptive. Backspace, backspace, backspace—Just say hi. Let’s just start with Hi.

‘Yooooooooo’

Are you fucking possessed? Good Lord. How is he already typing he never used to reply this fast, what the fuck—

‘Are u fucking haunted?’

‘Fuck is yooooooo’

‘Yooo to you too, cousin’

Faster texter now, but Richie is still the same guy, at the end of the day.

‘this is a loaded fucking question’

‘but do you think you’ll be free any time this week?’

‘not unless ur dead or dying’

‘are you dead or dying?’

‘not that I’ve heard’

‘but I was thinking maybe we could like, get food or smth’

‘chat one on one. Been a minute, yknow’

That was too much. You didn’t need to do all that. Now he’s gonna go well who’s fault is that? And it’s yours. You know it’s yours. And then you’re gonna have that fucking conversation— Which is what this whole meet up thing was supposed to be about in the first place—

‘heard’

‘can’t get time off but fak needs to have his training wheels ripped’

‘could have dinner at the bear this week? Like 2 hours. Then I can watch him and keep him from shitting the bed’

‘and still get to do a fucking one on one, you corporate speak ass’

‘I didn’t know how else to fucking say it alright!!!!!!’

‘Dinner @ bear sounds good to me’

‘but probably ask carm/syd first if it’s cool’

‘yea yea I’ll fuckin check in with daddy don’t worry’

‘that sucked for me. That sucked to read. Go to jail.’

‘already have.’

‘I’ll let u know a time when I know. See u chip’

You heart it. The classic signal that it’s the end of a conversation. Holy shit. You did it. You actually texted someone that you miss that you miss them— Not directly, but you know Rich knows. And specifically, to book a dinner, to talk about what happened, to apologize for it. That’s pretty fucking huge. Which means—

It’s time to eat a whole freezer cake and lay in your pyjamas all day and interact with not a single soul on this entire planet. You’re absolutely at your social limit, for the day. Maybe you’ll talk it through with Mikey, actually. To the air, more accurately, but, y’know, same thing.

You’re gonna get dinner with Richie. You’re gonna get dinner, with Richie, this Friday. And it’s not gonna be awkward or weird, at all.

It is t-minus two days, until the worst Friday of Carmen’s life, so far, at least. There’s always next year.

But today’s Wednesday, and though he feels a little nerve-wracked, he’s pretty sure it’s just because the kitchen was so fucking dysfunctional this morning, and now that their prep’s off, the tempo of the whole fucking day is off, and they're behind on two tables. And fucking seriously this time, can someone get him a fucking marker that fucking works.

Okay, maybe it’s a little more, than nerve wracked.

Sydney is ever the intuitive, and always correct, at the station next to him— Because yes, they’re still down a hire since the meth guy, so now Carmen is on line.

She can tell, that somethings wrong with him, something’s always wrong with him. “Take your ten, Chef.”

Carmen shakes his head, obviously, there’s still prep to catch up on. And if he doesn't do it, it's not gonna get done, and even if it does get done, it's not gonna get done right. He’s pressing the dead sharpie down on the tape, like if he just brute forces it, it’ll start to work. “M’good, Chef.”

“Carmen.” She turns to him fully, stopping her work. And so, he does too. “Take your fucking ten.” She deadpans, she’s not taking no for an answer. She rubs her fist over her heart.

Carmen takes a beat, before nodding, doing the same. “Heard, Chef.”

He needs to look over expense reports that he can’t quite comprehend, anyways.

He really needs his sister. He steps into his office. Despite the fact that they re-constructed just about everything in the restaurant, this musty office remains the same. Untouched. After caving down walls, they had to cut the budget somewhere. He’s glad though, that it's untouched. It might be crowded, poorly organized, have an off smell (probably because of the birth in here, just a few weeks back), but it’s exactly as his brother left it, and that helps him feel… Connected, somehow.

What the hell is Var vs Budget? He’s googling every other word, here. He’s more than grateful, that before going home on mat leave, Sug set up a good enough automated Excel sheet that he could just plug in numbers and it did all the calculating for him. Doesn’t mean he knows what any of the numbers mean, but, they’re there.

He knows that red equals bad. Natalie told him that very specifically. Which did seem like she was calling him fucking stupid, but he let it go. There’s a lot of red. That’s a lot of bad. Well, not a lot, but like, a third of this is red. That’s probably more than it should be. How many months do they have again? Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

He is never gonna get to pay himself, he’s never gonna be able to pay Syd, he's never gonna get her a star, she’s gonna live with her dad for the rest of her life, you are never gonna get to work here, you’re gonna work as a bottle girl for the rest of your life, he’s never gonna get his shit together so he’s never gonna get to call you his, he’s gonna have to hand the deed to Cicero and then fucking everyone is gonna to lose their jobs and he’s still gonna be him. He’s still gonna be him. Carmy Berzatto, the chef that lost everything, little brother to everyone's hero who blew his brains out. Starless in Chicago, unable to feel anything more than sorry for himself. Carmen’s gonna die as Carmen, and nothing more. At the end of the day.

Take a deep breath, Bear. Relax.

He’s catastrophizing. You told him that. He forgot to look into it. He googles that, instead of another business term he doesn’t understand.

‘Fixates on the worst possible outcome and treats it as likely, even when it is not.’

Well, it does seem pretty fucking likely that he’s doomed to fail and fall into a Sisyphean nightmare of opening restaurants and falling on his fucking face, dragging everyone he loves down with him with his stupid failed pipe dreams. He's no better than his brother.

He tries his best to think of whatever level-headed bullshit you'd give to him, right now, tries to taste the hot chocolate, the lavender and cardamom coffee. He smells your shampoo, in his hair, that helps.

Maybe, maybe it’s just been a bad week. Maybe there will be a lot of bad weeks, maybe there won’t be. Maybe things will be fine, maybe they won’t. You and Syd will still succeed, even if he fails. Everyone will, even if he fails. He has a very capable crew. And while he cannot escape the thought that failure is around the corner, at the very least, he is comforted by the idea that at least he will be the only one sinking with the ship he commands.

The thought of drowning alone is still impossible to rid of. Though.

But you’ve sent a text. And isn’t that a wonderful distraction?

Your connection results in response to his, from this morning, of course. You actually got it today. He swells with what feels like pride, and despite the fact that no one's looking at him, he has to hide his smile with his hand, embarrassed by how happy he is, when he sees the photo you’ve sent, just now. A selfie, sitting next to an oven, Other Tony’s oven. You’re holding a fried wire in your hand.

The text below it is a wonderful salve, ‘If you ever fuck up your ovens, I’ve got like, 10 thermocouples in my personal stock now :))’

So good to him, too good to him. Too good to anyone. ‘Heard.’

Carmen so, so fucking desperately wants to ask you to come to The Bear, right now. You’re only two blocks away, at La Mattina. You’d come, if he asked. He knows that. But he also knows that even if you calm him down, in the long run, it’ll set his day even further off tempo, he’ll be distracted the rest of his shift, and that’s the last thing he needs. He can handle this himself.

‘:)’ For levity. Or something. He’s trying. You give it a heart, so that means he’s done something good, he’s pretty sure.

There’s a knock at his door. Richie does not wait for an answer before coming in. His knocks are more like warnings, really. Carmen’s quick to tuck his phone away, he knows it’d be perfect cannon fodder to be teased into oblivion.

“Aye, cous—”

Carmen does not let the man get a word in inch wise, “Who’s on expo?”

Richie grimaces, this fucking song and dance, again. “Syd.”

“Who’s on her station, then?”

“T.”

“And hers?”

“She’s doin’ fuckin’ both Carmy— And—” Richie pulls a sharpie out of his breast pocket, throwing it at him. Carmen catches it. “Fuckin’ works. Alright?”

Marker works, and the system works. He catches the double meaning, too. Carmen nods, “Heard.”

“Christ.” Richie looks to high heaven, looks to his best friend, really, to give him strength. “Can I take my fuckin’ turn now?”

“Yeah, yeah, go ‘head.” Carmen turns to his desk, looking over the excel sheet, again. He can’t imagine Richie needing all of his undivided attention, right now, he’s not you.

Speaking of you, he can’t find your repair expenses anywhere on here. He needs to text Sug, about that. No, she’s got a fucking baby, he’ll at least look for a physical copy, first.

“I need to take two hours, on Friday.”

“Huh?” Carm’s head snaps up. Okay, maybe he does need to give his full attention to Richie, right now. “Eva got a fuckin’ recital, or somethin’?”

“No, no, uh— Chip wants to get dinner.” Rich scratches his nose with his thumb. “Thought since Fak's been training to host f'like, the whole fuckin’ month, could do dinner 'ere, let him do a run on us. Two birds, one bullet, y’know.”

“It’s stone.”

“I’m not fuckin’ high, cousin—” “No, it’s— Alright.” Carmen closes his eyes, hand over his face, deciding this is not the fight he wants to choose. “Tony’s getting dinner with you?”

“If I’m allowed, your fuckin’ Majesty.”

If it were up to Carmen? He wouldn’t be. But you specifically asked. Why, he has no idea. Carmen crosses his arms. “Yeah, yeah, s’fine. Just start at like, a not peak time. Like 4:30? Then when rush starts after 5 Fak’ll have a lil' momentum.”

“Heard. I’ll tell ‘em.” Richie nods, turning to make his way out.

Carm’s leg bounces, a tick that he’s pretty sure he’ll never get rid of. “… Ey Rich?”

He stops, turning back to Carmy, “Yeah, cousin?”

Carmen taps the end of the sharpie on the table, not looking at Richie, “What’s uh— Why d’you call Tony ‘Chip’?”

Ever so slightly, Richie’s brows furrow. “Did'j'ya ask her?”

Carm shakes his head, “S’why I’m asking you.”

Richie takes a beat, head rocking to the side, “Y'should ask her, she’ll tell you.”

Carmy squints, at that, “Is it fuckin’ dark or somethin’, cousin?”

What’s so secretive about Chip? He figured it would be some stupid inside joke with chocolate chips, like Sug with the salt mix up. Richie swallows, frowning just a bit. He clearly does not know how to answer this question, which just makes Carmen even more curious.

“S’ not dark, kinda, it’s just, y’know. Personal.” Since when the fuck did Richie have respect for personal? Probably since he sent him to stage. Goddammit.

“Did you not coin it?”

“Mikey did.”

Oh.

Huh.

Mikey got to do that first, too, eh?

“But, y’know, ask her, she likes you well enough to tell you, I think.” Richie shrugs, palms out. “Kinda tells stories like that better than me, anyways.” That's high praise— Not in the sense that Richie's a great storyteller, but that he's willing to admit it, for you.

“Oh, she doesn’t bury the fuckin’ lead?”

“Oh, fuck you.” But it’s true, so Richie’s amused. There’s something nice, about being known. Even if it’s to tease.

There’s a lull of silence. Quite frankly, Carmen’s hoping that Richie’s general disdain of silence will force him to confess your nickname backstory, just to fill the void. It doesn’t. Instead, it just gears him up, in the worst way, able to read the look on Carmen’s face.

“You really wanna fuckin know, huh?” Richie tilts down his head, teasing. Carmen groans. Oh dear god, why him. “Oh, fuck, you fuckin’ like her, don’t’chu, cousin? You fuckin’ dog.”

“Shut the fuck up, Rich—”

“Aye, Chip’s a real catch, I gettit— Works hard, plays nice, cleans up good— Y’have my blessing.”

“Didn’t ask for it.”

“Aye,” Richie snaps his fingers, pointing at Carmen like he could smite him. “Don’t gimme no talk back, she was my boy first, a’right? One bad word from me, n’ your lil’ fantasy—” He gestures an explosion with his hand, making a ‘pop’ sound with his lips.

“Gone, cousin.”

Carmen leans back in his seat, playing with the sharpie in his hand. He’s essentially Kubrick staring down Richie, but the guy is unaffected. “Friday, 4:30, two hours. If Fak fucks up, you’re on deck.”

“Heard.”

“Jeff, can I please get an all day, baby?” Baby is Tina’s new HR approved version of ‘for the love of fucking god’ She’s definitely at her limit, meaning Syd’s definitely at her limit on expo. Richie starts to step out, walking backwards.

“You comin’ cousin?”

Carm scratches his nose, straightening up back to his desk. He wishes he could go back to the kitchen, where he knows he’s good, instead of in here, with some goddamn spreadsheets that he cannot comprehend beyond bad. “Uh, one sec, I just need to finish this fuckin’—” He shakes his hand in the air, “Whatever the fuck this is.”

Richie nods, tapping the doorway on his way out. “Heard… g’luck.”

Carmen does not look at the spreadsheets. No. He thinks. He doesn't think about business.

That wasn’t true, was it? A phone call from Richie wouldn’t be the end of him, end of you, would it? Carmen is on the losing playing field here, practically everyone here has more history with you than he does. If he had a… lapse in behaviour, and it got back to you, would that ruin him? God, even his work family ruins things for him. Or could. Which means they will. Catastrophizing.

Whatever. What the fuck ever. He needs to find your invoice. After some flipping through last month’s file, he finds a sticky note from Sug between loose pages.

‘reminder: ask carmy 4 tony invoice’

He squints. You said Nat took care of it. Maybe it’s an old sticky note, he’ll text her about it, it’ll be a solid forty hours before he’ll get a response, anyways. Mom stuff. He really needs to go visit his niece again, soon. Maybe this weekend. Take Richie’s car. But then he'll probably will be forced to take Richie, too. Maybe he should just ask you, instead. Let Nat thank you for the heating pad she’s been loving, properly. Have dinner, all together, in an actual family home, instead of just each other's apartments. That'd be nice.

Yeah. Yeah. He’ll ask you on Friday, when you come for dinner. He grabs a pad of paper, biting the cap off his sharpie. He’ll make you something off menu, on Friday. You’re coming before the rush, anyways, he’ll have time to play, on Friday.

He’s gonna do right by you, this Friday.

Tomorrow, you’ll be getting dinner with Richie, and it’ll be the worst Friday of your life.

But right now, it’s Thursday night, and you’ve finally finished Carmen’s piece for The Bear. You know you told him if he didn’t like it, he didn’t have to put it up, but admittedly, if he doesn’t like it, you will be crushed.

One big white canvas.

Nine perfect squares, perfectly equidistant from each other at all angles.

Each square a snippet, a photo transfer. The squares themselves are messy, sun damaged, bleach stained, light flared. All twinged blue and yellowish. But so perfectly cut and curated.

Each image, something new. Starting at the top left, it’s The Original Beef. Then, the inside. Then the booths.

Then the second row, the sandwiches, held in hands.

The center photo. You've taken almost all of these photos on a disposable from yesteryear, but this is the one you like the most.

Mikey. The only transfer completely unbleached, unaltered, unruined. He’s holding two cut outs. One, Food & Wine and the other, a small section in the off off off pages of the New York Times.

Both specifically the one’s that mentioned Carmen, winning Best Chef and the James Beard.

Mikey was so proud. So so proud, silently, just with you— Couldn't look soft. Carmen does not know this photo exists. No one does. You hope this piece will act as the catalyst for you to be able to talk about the elephant in the room you’ve yet to open for him.

Right next to Mikey, is a balloon on a pipe— A photo you grabbed from Sydney and printed. You can only imagine the stress you could’ve eased, during their fire safety test. C’est la vie. Fak got to prove himself.

And on the last row, the new, ritzy, booths. The Seven Fishes dish— Also a photo you stole from Sydney. And finally, The Bear’s sign. Taken at night, lit up in all its neon glory.

Though the images are disconnected, starting from Mikey in the center— Clean, the flaring and staining grows more intense at the pictures in the corner. Just bordering on illegible. It all feels interconnected, woven.

It’s Carmen. Or, at least, you think it is. That’s what you were trying to achieve. You took inspiration from the way his brain works, the way he cooks messy but produces orderly, the way he’s grown something out of what was barely more than nothing. The way love and grief is at the center of everything. He’s awfully inspiring.

You’re excited, to show this to him tomorrow, on Friday. Hopefully all goes well, on Friday. You’re coming before the rush, you’ll probably have a little time to talk, on Friday. You won’t be able to get into everything, no, you’ve promised most of your bandwidth to Richie, but you’ll make a good start, on Friday.

You’re gonna do right, by Carmen, on Friday.

Tomorrow.

HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE

i've still got 2k of beats to cover for the next chapter, and have 7.9k already written out, for it. This is going to be fun. lmao. I'm genuinely very very excited for you to see it, when it comes out. Cannot believe I thought like 4 chapters ago that'd this next chapter would be the one to be released next. I almost briefed over all of these past few chapters to be nothing more than snippets in a chapter, I would never forgive myself if i went through with that plan, fr.

Anyways, no time for the future, this is NOW!! I hope I described Tony's paintin' good. I think it'd be nice. MBMBAM reference in the intro, are you fucking HAUNTED? ARE YOU FUCKING POSESSED? Love griffy, had to. Carmen CANNOT stop having anxiety attacks, someone get him on prozac frfr.

Tell me your thoughts or I'll eat my hat, I'm gonna need some words to chew on while I write, anyways. Hitting a wall choreographing this back half of chapter ten my GOD. Also oh yeah, silly aesthetic thing. I dunno if anyone noticed or cared, but i do a different ombre banner when it's carmen's perspec-- Did it last chapter too, aint that cute?

Also, I must finally give in, I was lazy to do taglists, but have folded, so here u are mfs. If you'd like to be added, you gotta leave me an essay somewhere. It's the RULES! Well, leave an essay and also ask to be added to the taglist that is but IT'S THE RULES!!

@anytim3youwant @navs-bhat @whoknowswhoiamtoday @gills-lounge @slut4supersoldiers @sinceweremutual @itsallacotar @catsrdabestsocks101

fully added people that never asked to be on here, you're just like, top fans, so i thought it would be nice, but if you WANT TO BE TAKEN OFF LET ME KNOW I'LL DO IT IMMEDIATELY ALSO IF I'M FORGETTING ANYONE WHO ASKED PLEASE DO REMIND ME

Next Part

[faux-ecrivain]

’Yan’ Roommate

(Eight Official Post)

(This one could be viewed as platonic obsession, also in this story you (the darling)  is at least 26-32. Of course, feel free to change the age.)

(Yandere’s name is Lucas)

Yan Roommate who only roomed with you because houses are expensive.

Yan roommate who absolutely despises you, not because you’re annoying, but because you’re nosey. (Always asking about his day, his dates and so on.)

Yan roommate who goes out of his way to sneak in when he’s been out late, just to avoid your questions. (It doesn’t work, obviously, you always stay up late waiting for him)

Yan roommate who absolutely cannot bring anyone over, because you immediately start acting as though he’s going to marry them. 

You beckon him to the kitchen, a mischievous smile on your face. “oh, Lucas, is that your date? She’s so cute!” You compliment his date, which makes Lucas somewhat uncomfortable. “Is she hungry? I made dinner!” You hand him a plate, still warm as you had it plastic wrapped, and he resist the urge to groan. 

He thanks you for the plate, but informs you that his date has already eaten. He winces when your face slips into an expression of disappointment. “Sorry, y/n, but thank you for the food.” He apologizes to you, but appreciates what you did. (Later when the young woman went home you kept sending him knowing looks and teasing him about how cute they looked together)

(It’s clear you’ve already planned their wedding, cooked a full dinner for the two of them and you give him one of those sly looks when you leave them alone.)

Yan roommate who, despite your nosey behavior, actually likes having you around (because you make him feel cared for).

Yan roommate who begins to view you as a parental figure, a guidance of sorts. (You’re so much better than his parents and you actually care about him!)

Yan roommate who gets drunk one night and then starts talking to you, being more vulnerable than usual.

“Y/n, i love you sooo much, you’re sooo nice to me!” He slurs, clearly meaning platonic love, his words muffled by your stomach. (As he latched his arms around you when he entered the house) 

“Yoooouu would make such an amaaaazing parent!” He giggles, snuggling close to you and refusing to let you go. You chuckle and pat his head, his behavior is so amusing. “Well, I am a parent, Lucas.”

Yan roommate who is absolutely flabbergasted to learn all this, you don’t look like a parent. Then you tell him that you adopted some kids when you were younger. 

“Whaaat?! You’re a parent?!” He exclaims, clearly surprised by such a thought. “But you don’t look like one!” It all makes sense now, your caring behavior and your tendency to worry is clearly because you view him as a child, your child, he doesn’t know how to feel about that.

Yan roommate who gets mixed feelings when he hears this, one the up side at least he can have the parent he always wanted, but he’s also an adult and feels a bit insulted that you treat him like a child. But then he thinks some more and decides he wouldn’t mind being your kid. (Take that how you will)

Yan roommate who cringes when be remembers how yesterday went and he swears he’ll never drink again. 

However his opinion on being your child still hasn’t change, but he has feeling that it might make things awkward if he said that.

Yan roommate who’s becomes reluctant to invite other people over to your shared apartment, because then he’ll have to share you with them and he doesn’t want to do that. He eventually stops bringing his dates over and stops mentioning you to his friends.  (He’s touched when you express your worries that he might be mad at you, now he knows you care about him.)

Yan roommate who explains that he doesn’t want anyone to steal your attention, he’s somewhat offended when you laugh at him, but he’s calmed down when you reassure him that that’ll never happen. (So he, reluctantly, begins to invite his friends and dates over. (However, anytime they’re over he’s increasingly clingy and defensive over you, which prevents any visitors to get to know you. Whilst, also preventing them from coming over again)

Yan roommate who pouts when you tell him not to scare off his friends or dates, he pouts even more when you encourage him to  get a girlfriend (or a boyfriend, whichever). Then you tell him to get out of the house more and that he doesn’t need to hover around you, which just upsets him and then he argues that he doesn’t need anyone else when he has you. 

Which then causes you to chastise him, which upsets him (everything you do upsets him) and then he storms off to his room like a moody teenager (mainly because he doesn’t want to argue with you and partly because he feels a strange satisfaction knowing that you care so much about him)

Yan roommate who can’t help but smile when you apologize, saying that you shouldn’t have pushed him and that he should socialize on his own terms.

Yan roommate who’s absolutely ecstatic when you gift him a present to make up for your mistakes. He immediately forgives you, but only under the condition that you don’t make him socialize (unless he wants to).

Yan roommate who panics whenever you leave the apartment, what if someone takes you from him? (He doesn’t want to lose another parent!) 

Yan roommate who throws a fit when you get back, shouting all sorts of nonsense about how you’re trying to abandon him and how you don’t love him anymore. (Meanwhile, you’re completely confused, because all you did was go buy groceries)

Yan roommate who makes you promise to stay with him and makes you swear not to leave him behind. 

(Apologies that this isn’t the best and might be somewhat incoherent, but at least I posted today! I’m open to criticism and I hope you enjoy this.)

[alisonwritesimagines]

I Just Wanna Know You Better Now ~LA! Mihawk Imagine~

Summary: You meet Mihawk for the first time and he is not what you expect.

Author’s Note: I was gonna upload this yesterday but my boyfriend's alarm woke me up and put me in a bad mood.

Based in my Enchanted series

Reader’s Pronouns: She/Her

Warnings: mentions of killing, fluff

Side Note: This is a secondary blog. If you comment a question down below, I will not answer since this is not the main blog. Please send the question to my inbox if you want a response back!

Do not repost this anywhere!

The village was small. Not what Mihawk was expecting to find the quarry that Vice Admiral Garp told him to kill. He walked around the village before settling to find information about you at a bar.

“What can I get you?” The lady working the bar asked as she approached him.

“Red wine if you have it,” he tells her.

“One glass coming up,” she tells him before pouring a drink for him.

“Do you know anywhere I can find someone named Y/n L/n?” Mihawk asked.

“Don’t know who you’re talking about. Never heard anyone by that name here.”

Mihawk could tell that she was lying. But she seemed calm about it so he wouldn’t press onto it.

“Alright. No worries. I just had a message to deliver to her from someone,” Mihawk said. The woman nodded before walking away to clean the bar more.

Mihawk paid for his drink before walking out of the bar. He headed to the outer part of the village where he saw a small house and a woman in the garden. He got closer and saw that it was you based on the description Vice Admiral Garp gave to him. Though he was a little surprise with your aura.

“You don’t seem like someone who can harm a fly."

He watched as you turned around to look at him. Mihawk couldn’t deny that you were beautiful.

“I can hurt a fly. Don’t think I’m good at harming anyone else,” you tell him as you stood up. Your arms are crossed defensively but Mihawk had no intention of hurting you anymore.

“I see.”

“I know who you are so what do you want?” You asked him. A bold one, Mihawk thought to himself.

“I was sent to kill you but in all honesty, I don’t think I can kill you. You’re too beautiful to be killed,” Mihawk tells you.

“Who sent you to kill me?” You asked worriedly as you took a step back.

“Not to worry now. I don't have any intentions to kill you anymore," he tells you. Truthfully, Mihawk would be more upset if anyone hurt you. Even if he did meet you just now.

“Then why are you still here?” You questioned.

“I'm curious to see why someone would send me to go after you,” Mihawk tells you as he took a step forward.

“Feel free to stay. Just to tell you, it's going to be quite boring,” you tell him before picking up your basket.

“Allow me,” Mihawk said as he walked over and grabbed the basket from your hands.

“It’s not that heavy,” you pointed out.

“No. But how else am I to make you to start trusting me?” Mihawk asked.

“By not killing me.”

“I will do no honor in killing you,” Mihawk said.

Mihawk sat on a chair as he watched you sort out your fruits and vegetables in your kitchen. It felt awkward knowing a famous warlord was watching you sort out the food you picked from your garden.

“How long do you plan on staying?” You asked.

“Until I’m needed elsewhere,” Mihawk answered truthfully.

“Do you have a place to stay?” You asked him.

“Don’t worry about me darling. Just continue what you’re doing,” Mihawk tells you. You nodded before picking up the basket with the food you were going to sell.

“I’m heading to the market now. I don’t know if you want to join me or if you want to stay here,” you tell him.

“I’ll join you,” Mihawk tells you before joining you in the market.

You traded some fruits and vegetables for some meat before selling off the rest. Mihawk watched a close eye on you as he followed you around. Everyone was too scared to question the warlord behind you but he didn’t care. His main focus was you.

The next day, he showed up at your front door.

“Did you eat breakfast yet?” You asked him.

“Yes.”

“Okay. I need to go to my job and I don’t think a warlord is going to be comforting to the kids,” you tell him before grabbing your things to head into town.

Before, you would just only teach Luffy. But since the school needed a new teacher, you became the village’s teacher.

“I’ll walk with you then,” Mihawk offered.

“Okay.”

Mihawk took your bag in his hands before following you to the school.

“You don’t have to wait for me you know. I’ll be at the school for a while,” you tell him.

“Who’ll carry your bag then?” Mihawk asked.

“I’m not some helpless woman you know. I can carry my own bag,” you tell him. Mihawk just stared at you as you walked inside the school.

Mihawk didn’t do much as he waited for you. He did grab you some pastries from the bakery before heading back to the school to wait for you again.he could hear the people talk about seeing the warlord waiting by the school for the teacher. He didn’t mind for once.

“Did you wait the entire time?” You asked Mihawk after you finished saying bye to your last student.

“I wasn’t doing much anyway,” Mihawk tells you as he handed you the box of pastries. He took your bag again in exchange.

“Thank you,” you said as you looked up at him.

Mihawk gave you a nod before the two of you walked back to your home.

“No tending to the garden today?” Mihawk asked you.

“I will. I just need to prep for dinner tonight,” you tell him.

“Why don’t I tend to your garden?” Mihawk offered.

“You know how to garden?”

“I know my way around. Where’s your basket?”

“Um by the door.”

“Won’t be long,” Mihawk tells you before walking out.

As you cooked dinner, you accidentally touched the hot pan making you hiss in pain.

“Ow!”

You didn’t think Mihawk heard you until he rushed through the door with a full basket. He placed the basket on the table before he checked on you.

“What happened? What’s wrong?”

“Just burned myself.”

Mihawk quickly grabbed your bucket of water before gently putting your finger in the cool liquid.

“Thanks.”

“Of course.”

"I made extras if you'd like. I got used to cooking for two," you tell him as you took your hand out and dry it with a towel.

“Was it for you and your past lover?” Mihawk asked. He noticed the ring dangling from a chain on your neck the moment he met you. But there were no signs of him anywhere in your home.

“Not really surprisingly. I used to take care of a little boy who used to live with me who had a bottomless stomach. He wanted to become a pirate so he set sail a year ago," you tell him.

“I see.”

“So, dinner?” You asked.

“Why not,” Mihawk said as he put his sword away.

Mihawk cleaned up before sitting with you at the table.

“I hope you like it,” you tell him. Mihawk took a bite of the food, nodding in approval afterwards.

“It’s good.”

“Thank you!”

“You should let me cook for you sometime,” Mihawk tells you.

“What kind of food do you cook?”

“Anything that can go well with red wine.”

“You like red wine?”

“I do. It’s a classical drink.”

“Maybe I’ll buy us a bottle and we can have a drink together,” you tell him.

“Or I can get it along with some other supplies for when I cook.”

“Are you sure?”

“Please. Let me cook for you next time.”

“Alright. Deal.”

[torumin]

"It's alright honey"

Synopsis - Just Husband Gojo being the amazing husband he is and comforting you after a long week

A/N - Reposting my old stuff lol, feel free to send requests

Husband gojo who got home early from his mission and was waiting for you to come home.

Husband gojo who opened the door the moment he heard a knock on it. He knew it is you.

Husband gojo who notices that something is wrong the moment he senses your curse energy.

Husband gojo who hugs you but you don’t quite return the hug back. Now he was sure something was wrong with you because you, not hugging him back? nu-uh that’s almost impossible.

Husband gojo who was now concerned, asked you “my kikufuku are you alright?”.

One sentence was all it took to break the dam.

The waterfall of the tears started running down you tired face. This kinda shocked him. Gojo felt awful seeing you like this.

He knows that you are stressed out because of all the constant missions and after all these tiring missions you came back home, exhausted and tired but still managed to prepare amazing food for him and did all the chores.

Those higher-ups were going to get an earful from gojo. He knows that you are one of the strongest sorcerers and all the difficult missions are appointed to you but hoarding up all the work on a single person is something he can’t tolerate. Specially if it is you.

Husband gojo who hugged you and slowly guided you to the floor. You were crying uncontrollably. Hearing your sobs was hurting his heart.

“Shh.. it is alright honey. Let it all out..” he was trying his best to comfort you. His hand rubbing your back soothingly to comfort you.

His shirt was wet with your tears. Not that he minded but the fact you were crying so much was making him feel awful for not noticing how stressed you were sooner.

After a bit, he took you to the couch so that you can get comfortable.

He was still hugging you and rubbing soothingly on your back, whispering sweet nothings to help you feel better.

Your sobs finally stopped after what like hours. “How long have you been feeling like this honey? Hmm?”

“A few days? Maybe..”

“My precious kikufuku, you should have told me….I-I would have tried to make you feel better”. His voice was really soft and soothing to your ears. But it was filled with worry.

“B-but I didn’t want to disturb you..” you answered him honestly. That is what you were thinking.

You know that Gojo Satoru is a busy man, he has better things to worry about rather than you being tired, it wasn’t a really bid deal, you were used to it.

You were debating about whether you should tell him or not, because you didn’t want him to worry about such small things.

“You can never disturb me, you know that? I am always here for you whenever you don’t feel alright, okay?” You hummed in response.

You were grateful to have such and amazing and supporting husband.

You knew that you could tell gojo about your mental health and how you you are feeling but you just couldn’t really express it in words.

“But you shouldn’t really worry about my mental health. You already have other things to worry about”. You were saying what has been on your mind and this is true. He already has so many things to worry about. The jujutsu world is quite depended on Gojo.

“You and your mental health are very important to me. More than anything else” this sentence had something you have always wanted to hear. You didn’t know that a simple sentence can make you feel comfortable.

As your sobbing has stopped, Gojo felt relieved that he was able to comfort you. He was about to get up and get you some water but he felt something grab his hand.

“Please don’t go”.

“I am not going anywhere love. I am just getting some water to hydrate you”. Gojo came with the glass of water as fast as he could. (And trust me it was really fast)

“Do you want to talk about it hun?” He asked you in hope that you might want to tell him something, so that he can help you with it.

You shook your head. You were not really sure if you could really talk about it just now.

“It’s alright. But if you ever want to talk about it, remember that I am always here alright?”

You nodded. Husband gojo planted a soft kiss on your forehead. His action making you smile.

Gojo knows that stress can be a lot sometimes. He does not want you to bear it all alone.

©ALL CONTENT BELONGS TO TORUMIN DO NOT REPOST OR MODIFY MY WORKS WITHOUT MY PERMISSION

[yrluvjane]

Hey! i have never requested a fic before so forgive me cause i have no idea how to do it. How about a james potter x reader fic where james ignores reader for lily, getting them hurt in the process?

It's great and I'm honored to be your first :) Feel free to send as many as you like! Sorry, if I'm a bit late with it. I tend to rewrite at last minute a lot. I hope you like it!

James' love was a force of nature, not an ordinary love, but something that threatened to consume you entirely.

You couldn't ignore it, and it left you feeling both intoxicated and overwhelmed. It was like being at the beach, feeling the sun's heat kiss your skin and the sound of the waves crashing in the distance, and it was also like jumping into the pool and feeling the cold spring of the water shock you to your core. James' love was like that, it was intense, it was overwhelming, it was all-consuming. It was a love that burned like a wildfire, crashing down on you with the force of oceanic waves and you couldn't help but be drawn into its embrace.

And somehow you still felt like second fiddle to Lily Evans. From the moment they met in their first year, he's been completely obsessed with her - spending every second of free time with her, using every chance to grab her attention.

Back then, you've always tried to ignore his constant chatter about her, but today, it proved too much. Nothing drastic had happened today but you did get a rather shocking acceptable on a Potions test you'd worked really hard on and were sure you'd have aced. That had got to you a little and you were craving a little reassurance.

After a good while of moping around in bed waiting for James to come back from practice you decided to head for lunch and meet him there. When you spot James in the common room with Lily, leaning in to whisper something in her ear as she laughs at his latest joke, that's when it really hits you. That loneliness. Maybe your over-reacting, but that doesn't stop you from feeling a pit forming in your stomach. You've never felt so invisible and forgotten before, and it hurts more than you ever thought it could. 

You take a deep breath and force a smile onto your face as you walk past them, trying not to let your emotions show, but it's hard. When you reach your table, you find yourself struggling to eat, the food tasting like ashes in your mouth. And your mind takes up the role as your greatest enemy, coming up with a whole lot of reasons of why James could prefer Lily over you.

You're not entirely sure why you're even there, since James is too preoccupied with Lily to even notice your absence. And whenever you manage to distract yourself, someone is tapping on your shoulder asking you were James is and you have to smile and say he's with Lily.

After what feels like an eternity, and overhearing a rather hurtful comment made at you, the lunch period finally comes to an end. You make your way back to your dormitory, trying to hold back the tears that threaten to spill down your face. As you flop onto your bed, you can feel the lump rising in your throat as you think about your day.

You let out a shaky sigh as the tears finally spill over, spilling down your face and onto your pillow. You don't know why your crying, Lily is your friend and James has the right to sit and talk with whomever he wishes. You're being stupid you believe and it still not enough to make you get yourself together.

As you lie there on your bed, crying uncontrollably, you hear a soft knock on your door. You sit up, still sniffling, and wipe away your tears as you call out, "Come in."

The door opens, and James steps inside, his face immediately wrought with concern. "What's wrong?" he asks, his voice filled with genuine worry.

"It's nothing, 'm being stupid." You say. You'd never actually tell James why. I don't get why James picked her, Lily was great for him! You repeat the comment in your mind.

He's not convinced, he looks more disappointed and it hurts. He pulls you into a hug, holding you close as you let the tears flow freely. "I'm here for you, I promise," he whispers in your ear, the warmth of his breath making you feel safe and loved.

He continues to hold you, you feel the tension of the past few hours begin to melt away, replaced by the comfort and warmth of James' embrace. As James continues to hold you, you take a deep breath and finally work up the nerve to tell him how you truly feel. "It's stupid, I know," you say, your voice trembling slightly. "But I can't help feeling like I'm never going to be enough for you, that I'll always compare myself to Lily and fear someday you'll pick her over me."

James shakes his head, his hands running through your hair as he looks deeply into your eyes. "It's not stupid, and you are enough for me," he says, his voice soft and filled with emotion.

He pulls your face closer to his, his lips meeting yours in a gentle kiss that makes your heart flutter. As he pulls back, his eyes meet yours once more. "You're the only one I want to be with," he says, his voice filled with conviction. "You're the only one I love, and my love for you could never compare with Lily. Hell, most of time we spend together all I can ever talk about is you."

His words are like music to your ears. You kiss him again, this time with all the passion and love that's been building up inside of you. "I'm sorry." You say sheepingly. "Oh hush, trust me Sirius is a lot more violent when it comes to seeking attention. I mean it, he bit me, once!" You both laugh and all your worries and fears melt away as you realize that, in this moment, you have everything you could ever want or need.

[moonstruckme]

I ADORE your writing it is so so so amazing. Could i request poly!marauders x fem!reader who works in a store (maybe like a supermarket or something) and they keep coming because they "need" stuff but they actually just wanna see her and its all cute and flully and stuff?? If you don't wanna do it, no worries at all<3

Thanks lovely! Hope you enjoy it :)

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.4k words

You’ve barely flipped the sign in the front to open and begun restocking the tomatoes when the door opens. “Good morning,” you say automatically, a Pavlovian response to the chime of the bell. 

“G’morning, lovely,” a familiar voice replies, the curly-haired boy flashing a smile at you as he stops below your ladder. “How’s your day going?”

“Well, it’s—” you look at the clock behind the counter “—quarter past seven, so…so far so good.” 

“Happy to hear it.” His dark-haired, sharp-edged friend appears, startling you, and the curly-haired one holds up his hands, ready to steady you if you need it.

“Shit, Pads,” he says once it’s clear you’re not going to fall, “you don’t sneak up on someone on a ladder like that. You scared her.”

You give them both a tense smile. “It’s fine,” you say, mustering your best customer service voice (not an easy task with two of your best-looking customers standing so close to you). “I’m alright.” 

“Sorry, dollface,” Pads says, sending you a half-sheepish grin in return. You don’t really understand these nicknames they have for each other, but embarrassingly, they’re the only names you know them by. The same group of three boys has been coming by your store for months, almost every day, and it’s reached a point where it’d be too awkward to ask for their names. They’re by far your favorite customers, but you only know them as what they call each other. There’s Pads, Prongs, and…

“Moony, weren’t you saying we’re out of eggs?” Prongs asks.

The tall one comes into view, already holding three cartons of eggs. “Yeah, but I can’t pick. What’s better, free-range or organic?”

“Free-range,” you say, feeling your face heat when they all look up at you. “I mean, it depends on your preference, but that’s what I’d get.” 

There’s a beat of silence wherein you suspect the boys are exchanging silent communication and have to force yourself to keep your gaze on the tomatoes, and then, “Dove, I hate to trouble you, but would you mind helping us choose?” Moony’s voice is soft, unobtrusive but compelling. Of the three boys, you find him the easiest to talk to. Prongs oozes charm and Pads flirts like it’s breathing, but something about Moony’s calm demeanor is disarming. “You seem like you know a lot more than any of us.”

“I don’t know about a lot.” You shake your head dismissively, but you’re already starting down the ladder. You miss the last step, and warm hands grab your waist, lowering you cautiously to the floor. 

“Easy,” Prongs murmurs. 

Your heart’s in your throat, more from embarrassment than from the alarm at your near fall, and you understand why you’re blushing, but you don’t get why he is. 

Your “thanks” comes out as more of a breath than a word, but he gifts you one of those dazzling smiles anyway. You turn to the egg cartons like they’re your lifeline, trying to steady your breathing while you read the labels. 

“Um, yeah, so.” You clear your throat. “It’s pretty self-explanatory, but organic just means they give the chickens food without chemicals or anything, and free-range means they get a certain amount of space to roam in. I don’t think it changes how the eggs taste or anything, it just depends on what you think is most ethical.” 

Moony nods, looking like he’s mulling this over, but you can’t stand to stay under his gaze any longer than that. 

“Let me know if there’s anything else I can help you with!” you squeak, abandoning your ladder to go tidy behind the counter. 

You’d think after months of these guys coming in you’d be used to them, but you’re not. They wind you every time. They’re obviously close, and you like to imagine them as housemates, maybe even lovers, with the way they seem to interact with such casual intimacy. So many of your customers barely look at you as they go about their business, and you don’t blame them for that, but these boys always have something to say to you. They’ll ask how your day is going, or whether you’ve tried the coffee shop down the road, or what you think of a new jacket. The way they talk amongst each other is so easy, and they talk with you like it should be easy too, but somehow you always manage to make it difficult for them. You’re too quiet, too nervous, too awkward. And yet they keep coming back. 

You’re not allowed much reprieve before Pads is sauntering up to the counter, free-range eggs in hand. He sets them on the counter. “Thanks for the advice, sweetheart.” 

“It’s no problem,” you say, distracting yourself with the manageable, routine tasks of your job. Scan the item, open the cash register, ask “Would you like a bag for that?”

“No,” he replies just as cordially, “but thank you.” 

Before he goes, he tucks a bill into the tip jar on the edge of the counter, just like always, and just like always, you don’t really know what to do with yourself. It’s not like it’s ever a massive amount of money, but still. They’re only your age. Unless they’re all heirs to separate fortunes or something, they probably have about as much money to spare as you do. And it’s so, so unnecessary, especially considering they come here every day to buy one or two items, and then leave you a tip—for what? For ringing them up? For having limited knowledge of chicken ethics?

“You really don’t have to do that,” you blurt, shrinking in on yourself sheepishly when all three boys turn to look at you, nearly out the door. “I just mean, you guys come here all the time. You only ever get a couple of items, it’s really not necessary to leave a tip every time.” 

The three boys look at you with varying degrees of bemusement, and Moony gives you a small smile. “We don’t mind,” he replies, at the same time as Pads says, “We like coming here.” 

“I just…you shouldn’t feel obligated to leave a tip just because you need something from the corner store. I’m sure you live nearby, right? It’s not like you have a bunch of options in this area.”

The ensuing pause stretches a moment too long, and you tilt your head curiously as both Moony and Prongs begin to blush faintly. “Well,” the latter says, looking about the store with forced casualness, “actually…”

Pads isn’t so tactful. “We don’t live nearby,” he says, gray eyes frank and unflinching. 

You blink. “No?”

Moony shrugs, looking alarmingly shamefaced. “No.” 

“We used to live around here,” Prongs supplies. “We just don’t anymore. Haven’t bothered to find a new store.” 

“Oh.” You hadn’t taken them for creatures of habit, but what all do you know about them really? “Um, where do you live now?” you ask, then want to hit yourself. “Sorry, you don’t have to answer that, I don’t mean to intrude—”

“No, it’s okay,” Moony says, in his usual kind way. “We moved down onto twenty second street.” 

Your mouth actually drops open. A giant O, and you can hear your mom telling you you’ll catch flies. Pads snickers at your reaction. But fuck, that’s nearly across town. It has to take them at least a half hour to get to your store from there, and that’s if they have a car. “I, um.” You shake your head, collecting yourself. “Sorry, that’s just so far. I used to live around there, actually.” 

Prongs perks up. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, there’s a Tesco just a couple blocks down, on twenty third? And a Sainsbury’s and—oh! There’s a great local corner store not far from there, you should definitely check it out. They make their own bread.”

“Neat,” Moony says, nodding. “Thank you.” 

You smile, happy to help even though you’ll be sad to see them go. “Of course, anytime.” 

“Yeah, thanks gorgeous.”  Pads grins at you, tucking another bill into your tip jar and ignoring your squawk of protest. “See you tomorrow.”

You blink, wondering if you’d just invented the previous conversation, but they’re all starting for the door, acting as though nothing is amiss. 

Perhaps you’re feeling extra bold today, because you halt them for a second time. “But don’t you want to go somewhere more convenient?”

Prongs turns around, walking backwards towards the door. “Really appreciate the advice,” he says, “but we like this store just fine.” Moony shoots you a bashful sort of grin, and Pads winks—actually winks—over his shoulder. “So we’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

And, well, if they want to keep crossing town to come in every morning, far be it for you to stop them. You’d hate to drive off your best customers. “Yeah,” you echo. “See you tomorrow.”

[rebouks]

Previous // Next

Hey Bird Boy!

I promised I’d write didn’t I? I’m missing you already, which is kinda stupid and cheesy, but true! There aren’t any other kids around now the holidays are over, so it’s just old people and super outdoorsy people who walk really fast with weird sticks and stuff, lame! Daddy lent me his crappy polaroid he uses for work so I can send you pictures and stuff so at least I’ve got something to do, they won’t be as good as yours but it’s better than nothing.

I tried to get a good picture but it’s hard to hold this huge thing with one hand and this is the best I could do but my teeth are totally starting to grow back so maybe I won’t look so dumb soon.. you can’t really see em but I can feel em poking through!!! It kinda hurts but I suppose we only have to grow em once so it’s not so bad. Growing teeth as a baby doesn’t count cos you can’t remember it.. how many teeth does your little sister have?!

I’m super looking forward to getting to know you properly since I can ask you stuff now! I’ll try n remember to ask you things instead of talking about myself the whole-time cos that’d be annoying to reply to, wouldn’t it?

By the way.. I took a bunch of pictures of my dad until I caught him laughing just to show you that he can be fun and nice, not always grumpy! He thinks he looks cool with his gold teeth but I think they make him look goofy, like a wannabe pirate haha!! YARRR!

I set Amber free cos I started to feel bad about keeping her cooped up in that tiny plastic box and I don’t think I’d like it if I were her, like how I’m starting to hate this stupid tower! I miss looking at her but I decided to start collecting fancy rocks instead since they’re not alive and don’t have any feelings. Dad digs up stuff for work sometimes so it makes total sense!! He said I’m not allowed to join him for that but we can do it on our own instead.. he bought me a big pretty one to start my collection, even though it’s kinda like cheating it still counts!

We found a birdwatching book stuffed in the back of the bookshelf looking for this notebook and dad said we should put some food out to see which ones we could spot.. they attacked him whilst he was putting the seeds out though so he said it was a stupid hobby and that he didn’t want to do it anymore. GET READY FOR THIS!!!

Ahahahahaahaaa I almost dropped his camera laughing at him and he took it off me for a couple days but it was totally worth it, please please pleaaaaase keep this picture cos I almost didn’t wanna send it to you so I could laugh at it forever and ever hahahaha!!!!

Oh, and I told daddy to take some pictures of me whilst I wasn’t looking like you do cos I thought it’d be neat, but I forgot I asked him to do it and got mad at him cos I was in my pj’s and my hair was all crazy.. it’s kinda funny I GUESS!! Plus, he said it made us even for me sending you the picture of him with the birds so here you go BUT DON’T KEEP THIS ONE!!

I got carried away and forgot to ask you stuff so here’s a list!

How old are you?

When’s your birthday?

Do you have any pets?!

What’s your favourite food?

Do you have all your big teeth yet? (it totally looked like it but you never know!!)

I was gonna think of more stuff to ask you and now the back of this page looks really empty but my brain farted and I really wanna send you this so you can send one back! I’ll think of more I promise!! I’m looking forward to “talking” to you so I guess you can write about whatever you want.. and I wanna see your house!! I bet your pictures will be way better than mine!

Yours excitedly, Alex :]

[modelbus]

Anyone else have a newfound love for this song and an addiction to task force 141? No? Just me?

To my mcyt readers: …I can’t explain. Just know that is ✨ different ✨ from my usual. (Quite Suggestive) To the COD readers I've attracted: I haven't played the games and reality is what I decide to make it (feel free to send asks educating me or info dumping <3)

Pairing: John Price x Gn!Reader

Too sweet

Baby, I can never tell How do you sleep so well?

”Morning Captain.” The words are practically a ritual, although you know he won’t respond. He never does this early in the morning.

There were a lot of unwritten rules in 141. When you first joined, you fucked them all up. Continuously. More often than not, it was Soap who laughed at you while Price patiently explained why you can’t joke about Ghost being afraid of snakes.

This rule, though, only took you a few days to catch onto. The “don’t talk about the sleepless nights” rule. Everyone knew why that rule existed; you’d seen enough combat to not be that naive. You’d been there enough to wake up before the sunrise, to watch the sky bleed orange.

And that’s exactly why you don’t ask Price about the circles under his eyes. If he’s not up doing paperwork, he’s up for other reasons. You don’t pity him; being Captain isn’t something you could ever do.

“Had a dream that Gaz found a goat and convinced you to make it the base pet.” You continue. His lips quirk up, gaze turning amused, so you soldier on. “Then it ate Ghost’s clothes, so he kicked it out of the base and Gaz quit the task force over it. And Soap claimed he could speak to it, but I called bullshit on him and he disappeared.”

”Disappeared to where?”

“Hell, maybe? That’s where he fucking belongs.” You smile at him, and his eye roll—you pretend it’s fond—seems like a victory of its own.

You’re too sweet for me You're too sweet for me

“No.”

The finality of his word rings clear, but you persist. You were never too good at stopping before you crossed that line, never too good at giving up while you were ahead. Things, more often than not, ended up right as rain.

“Price—“ You try.

“You’re too young, and it’s wrong.” Never before have you seen a man so tortured. It wasn’t a question of if he wanted you, it was a question if he would let himself want you. And you both knew it. “I won’t take your innocence from you.”

You scoff, following him down the hall and out of the briefing room. So much for staying after to help him gather papers.

“I’m a soldier, hardly innocent!”

“Compared to me, you are!” He turns, and you automatically look up to his eyes. As you said before: tortured. “I’m harsh, and we both know it. You deserve to be with someone soft, someone who can be sweet with you.”

“I don’t want to be.”

From the second you laid eyes on John Price, you knew you’d never want to be. It wasn’t his age, although you never minded an older man. It was his passion, his care, his leadership and skills and everything else about him. He was magnetic, drawing you in despite everything.

And you weren’t blind to the way his gaze always met yours in a room, either.

Price sighs heavily. “Go to bed, soldier.”

Tactful retreat it is, then. “Good night, Price.” You murmur, turning away.

A pause, then another sigh. This one is lighter. “Good night.”

I work late where I’m free from the phone And the job gets done But you worry some, I know

Knocking twice, you don’t wait for Price to respond before entering his office. His light was on, shining out a signal to anyone in the hallway that he was awake.

”You’re about to owe me.” You announce, ignoring his groan.

“I was working.”

“And now you’re going to eat dinner. I had to smuggle these from the dining hall, you know.” You drop the napkin bundle you had made on his desk, opening it to reveal the food. His and yours.

“I was going to get food later.”

“Liar.” You sit in the chair across from his desk, grabbing a bread roll. “No drinks, because even I can’t smuggle that out.”

“I could get you in trouble for this.” He points out.

“But you won’t. I’m your favorite.”

Price reaches forward, taking his bread roll. Mimicking you, although he never puts his pen down. The paperwork spread out in front of him is just like every other night you’ve brought him food.

“Who says you’re my favorite? Maybe it’s Ghost.” Price smiles, and you beam back at him.

“Don’t insult me like that. I’m proud of my title as your favorite. I mean, I am the only one that you let lounge in your office.”

“Tenuously.”

“Still.”

His attention turns back to filling out his paperwork, leaving you to sit there. Per usual. You stay until all the food is gone, leaving him with only crumbs on his desk to show for it.

Sweeping the napkin and crumbs into his desk, you pause by the doorframe. His hat obscures his face, but you know he’s aware that you’re still there.

“Get some sleep sometime tonight, yeah?” You hedge.

“I should be the one telling you that.”

“Someone gotta look after you, Price. Besides, I’m not the one who doesn’t go to bed before daylight.”

Knocking at the door to signal your exit, you head out.

You treat your mouth as if it’s heavens gate The rest of you like you’re the TSA

"Never have I ever... been a virgin." Soap says, raising his beer.

"That's not how it fucking works." You argue. "You were a virgin at some point, obviously."

"You know wha' I mean."

"Just pick something else." Ghost butts in gruffly.

This is why you prefer not to play drinking games with the task force. Soap always ends up fucking them up first, and then it manages to devolve into chaos. For an elite spec ops team, 141 sure did struggle at these games.

"Fine." Soap groans, taking a drink of his beer while he thinks.

"In the meantime, I'll go-" Gaz starts, but immediately gets cut off.

"Never have I ever been a virgin right now."

You stare at Soap. He stares back. "I'm going to beat your ass for targeting during training tomorrow." You threaten him, taking a sip of your wine. You're the only one drinking wine here, but you prefer the taste of it over beer or whatever the others are drinking.

As you tilt your glass back, your eyes lock with Price's. You're reclined on the floor with Soap while he's in a chair, giving you the perfect line of sight on each other. He watches with dark eyes as you swallow, tracing your figure with a gaze so heavy that it makes you shiver.

In his hand, his whiskey remains untouched.

"You just need to get laid and then you won't be such an easy target." Soap is saying, oblivious to the tension simmering between you and Price.

"Unlike you dumbasses, I'm don't want to sleep with the first moving thing I see." You don't look away from Price pointedly. "I prefer to wait for the right person."

Ghost makes a disinterested noise from the chair next to Price, making you flick your gaze to him. He inclines his head slightly, well-aware of the thing between you and Price, but doesn't say a word. Thank fuck for Ghost.

"I'm heading to the bathroom. Don't set the room on fire while I'm gone. Soap."

"God, I didn't do anything yet!"

"Yet."

"I'll go too." Price says lowly, his footsteps tailing yours. It's not until you're in the hallway and out of earshot from the others that he speaks to you. "You're a tease, doll."

"I'm aware." You turn to grin at him, but startle at his proximity. He steps forward and you take a matching one back, your back hitting the hallway wall.

"In front of everyone, too." He murmurs, boxing you in. Your heartbeat pounds loudly in your ears, but not from fear. You know what fear feels like, and it certainly isn't the warmth pooling in your gut. "Begging for it."

"You know I have been."

His head dips, and just for a moment the bitter taste of whiskey invades your tastebuds. Your eyes flutter shut as his tongue swipes across yours, and when you open them he's gone.

Point, you.

As soft as the rain Pretty as a vine As sweet as a grape

John Price was everywhere.

His hands on your hips, his bookshelf pressing against your back, his mouth on yours. Every inch of him invaded every inch of you, and you loved it.

As it turns out, all you had to do was get shot in the field. A graze made well worth it by this reaction.

“Don’t you ever pull that shit again.” Price says into your mouth, hands tight on your skin like you’ll disappear. You’d worry that they’d leave bruises, but you already know your love looking at the reminder of him.

“Or what?” You taunt when he pulls back for air.

“Or I’ll tie you to my fucking bed.”

The threat lights your blood on fire in a way it’s never done before. Want, roaring strong, sears through you.

“Truly a terrifying prospect, the guy I’ve been waiting to ask me out finally taking me to his bed—“

He smothers your laughter with his lips and tongue, hand coming up behind your head to protect it from the shelves. You tug at his hair, earned yourself a low addicting sound. Yeah, you need to hear that more. A lot more.

“What’d medical say?” Price asks, dipping his head to trail kisses along your neck. Because he had been waiting to ambush you the second you stepped into his office, you never got to tell him.

“Um.” You struggle to collect any rational thoughts as he nips at your neck, his beard and mustache scratching your skin. “They cleared me. Wrapped it and said I was good.”

“And what do you think I have to say about that?”

Trick question.

You groan, but it comes out less annoyed and more like something entirely different. He hums in response before you can even be embarrassed by the sound.

“I don’t want to run for training.” You complain.

“I think you’ve gotten enough things that you want from me.” As if to serve as an example, he presses a quick kiss to your lips before pulling back. Not too far: his hands on your hips ensure he’s still got a hold on you.

“…maybe.” You relent, staring up at him.

He smiles, reassuring, and you know this is going to stick. “Pretty thing.”

“I know you are.”

“I was talking about you, doll.”

And you knew he was, you were making a joke, but the way he says it has your cheeks flaming. He laughs, breath fanning over your hair, amused.

“Let’s grab food from the mess hall.” He suggests.

“You? Actually grabbing food? At a reasonable time?” It’s a goddamn miracle.

“Yeah yeah, don’t rub it in. Wipe that smile off your face.”

“Yes sir.” You don’t wipe the smile off your face.

“I had my tongue in your mouth, I think you can stop calling me sir. Or Captain, frankly.”

“What, you don’t like that stuff?”

His eyes widen briefly. “Oh, you little—“

[lunamadhatter99]

All for the cameras

chapter 2

Finnick Odair x fem!reader

Here we go, part 2! Thank you, thank you, thank you all for the support with the first chapter!! I'm so glad that everyone liked it.

I hope you're going to like this second chapter too🤞 again if you're new and want to be tagged in the next chapter, comment here❤️❤️❤️

Chapter summary: It's time for the big event. And better keep our eyes open.

Chapter warning: none, except the usual mention of prostitution and usual Hunger Games stuff. Nothing too wild. We still won't see Finnick in this chapter, but I promise it's going to be worth it❤️

Tag list

@guacam011y

@justtrying2getby

@idontevenknow1359

@alexandra-001

@bambikitten

@maggiecc

@redh00dsbf

@haneybunny

@1-800-styles

@sisiking99

"Snow is watching us." Haymitch says, we're almost at the Capitol for the final interview and the big celebration.

"Of course, he is. He needs to watch everything. Especially the inconveniences," I scoff.

"Yeah. And if he wants you to pacify the districts, I promise you, he's not happy." Haymitch continues, "instead of being in love, you two sounds like you're reading from a drilling manual."

"You try reading that stuff that Effie writes us," Peeta mutters.

"Snow doesn't care." I tell him. "That's not how you want to convince him."

"I'm open to suggestions," he says back, tired.

"We could get married," Katniss quietly suggests, not looking up at anyone.

"That's not helping," Haymitch comments.

"I'm serious. If, like you said we're on this train forever, it's gonna happen eventually. Why not now?"

"It does make a statement. I'll give you that." Haymitch then looks at Peeta who agrees, but quickly stands up and leave. Katniss looks at me.

"It's something we can try, you're right... they would want it to happen eventually." I shrug.

"It's settle, then." Haymitch drinks to that and Katniss looks at me with hope.

---------------

"Are you sure you don't want to come to the party?" I ask Haymitch before I have to leave for Snow's residence. "Lots of free alcohol."

"I don't need free alcohol." He chuckles amused, "I'm a victor. I already got that."

"Don't you want to save a damsel in distress?" I try again.

"Our president seems very well guarded on his own," Haymitch jokes, "he's safe."

I genuinely laugh at that shaking my head.

"See? I need that! Please?" I try to beg just one more time.

"Don't send me that look, Princess." He turns his head away ready to walk away.

"Fine, fine... I tried." I raise my hands up in surrender. "Wish me luck, at least. "

"Maybe they'll leave you alone tonight, too interested in the two lovers," he sadly smiles at me, hoping, rather than believing, his own words to be true.

"Yeah, maybe," I take a deep breath, "well... have a goodnight, Haymitch."

"You too, princess." He winks, "and eyes open."

------------

The party is just as exaggerated as ever. Lots of people, lots of food and drinks and lots of lights.

I make my way through the crowd, towards the tables full of food and drinks, hoping to find something to make this evening more tolerable. I take a glass and take a sip, breathing deeply.

Some people come to talk to me, about the victors, thankfully.

"Two victors, exciting, uh?" One of the them says cheerfully.

"Very," I say with my usual forced smile.

"You must be proud, two victors on your turn on 12," a woman with very voluminous hair nudges me, "you were the talk of the town these past few days, you know?"

"Me?" I ask, surprised by that, usually everyone forgets about me during the victory tour.

"Oh yes, well beside the lovebirds." A green haired man chimes in.

"Why?" I start to get anxious, the necklaces feel a lot tighter than before.

"I heard a rumour... someone wants to put a ring on your finger," she whisper-exclaims with a wink.

"W-what?... I don't think... uh..." I stutter.

"C'mon, everyone knows you're Cal Kingslay's favourite." She teases, with a devilish smirk, "and it's rumored that he wants you all to himself."

"Isn't that wonderful?" The man cheers. "We could probably get two well awaited weddings this year!"

"I hope I didn't ruin the surprise." The woman adds, with, what I'm sure is, a fake apologetic smile.

"Of course not. Now would you excuse me, gotta wait for my Victors." I say turning around to walk as far as possible from them, I finish my drink in one go and soon take another glass. Thankfully it's announced the arrival of Katniss and Peeta.

I spot them walking through the crowd following Effie and heading to Flavius and Octavia so I quickly join them.

As they see me arrive they immediately smile, relieved.

"There you are," I say holding my hands out for them to hold, "I've missed you,"

All for the cameras.

"It's only been 30 minutes," Peeta plays along.

"And you can stay that long away from me?" I fake offence, "You wound me,"

Everyone around us laugh so I just decide to stick with them as long as I can.

Helping them play along is much easier than expected, especially with Peeta, Katniss is still a little uncertain, but I get her, it got me years and years to get used to the cameras.

After I unfortunately finish my fourth glass, I need another one, in order to survive this evening.

"Excuse me a second," I whisper at them and head to the other side of the room where I can get another glass of Whiskey.

I turn around to go back to Katniss and Peeta when I'm met with a firm chest.

Unfortunately I already know who this might be.

"Found you" Cal teases.

I look up at him, the blue in his hair is even stronger than I remembered, and a little longer too, he got bigger, more muscles for sure, eyes just as devilish.

"That you did," I try to mask my fear with a chuckle.

"I've missed you, you know, been looking everywhere for you since I got here," he says with a sweet tone, that only makes my skin crawl. He grabs my hand to play with my fingers.

"I've been here the whole time, chatting with the Victors you know," I take my hand back, "I should get back to them, exc-"

"They got you all this time," he stops me from walking away, "it's not the same without you."

"I..." I want to say something, but nothing comes out.

"I mean, it's fun and all with Finnick, but with you..." he lets out a big dreamy sigh, "with you it's so much better"

He says the last part leaning in, close enough to suffocate me.

"Excuse me?"

We both turn and see Peeta standing there.

"Peeta!" I say, both surprised and relieved, "Peeta, uh.. this is Cal Kingslay, his father was once the general himself"

"Nice to meet you, sir," Peeta extends his hand and Cal grabs it and shakes it.

"The pleasure is all mine, Mr Mellark," Cal greets him, he's tense though, he doesn't like being interrupted.

"Uh... Peeta, where's Katniss?" I ask to change the subject.

"She's dancing with the new Head Gamemaker," he explains simply, "but I still wanted to dance so I thought to ask you, if you're free."

"Oh, but of course," I say holding out my hand for him.

"But..." Cal starts.

"Oh, c'mon, he's our new victor, we can't say no to him, now can we?"

"Of course not," Cal says with a very evident forced smile.

That being said, me and Peeta go dance with the other people, I even spot Katniss with said New head Gamemaker.

"Thank you," I breathlessly say as we start dancing.

"You're welcome, you looked like you needed saving," he says with his kind smile, "who is he?"

"A fan" I simply say, "a very... uh... insisting one"

"I see," he nods.

"Thanks again, really."

"Don't worry about it." He laugh, "I mean, you helped saving me in that arena, this is nothing."

It's actually a lot more than he thinks.

I smile at him, grateful.

I then feel a slight tap on my shoulder, I turn around seeing Katnis and the Gamemaker.

"Mind changing partners?" He asks politely.

"Sure."

Me and Katniss exchange spots.

"It's an honour," he says once we're dancing.

"That honour would be the same if I knew your name sir," I tease.

"Oh, my bad, I apologise." He chuckles, amused, "I'm Plutarch Heavensbee,"

"Now the honour is mine," I say, "new head Gamemaker... when did they choose you?"

"Oh, I volunteer," he simply explains.

"Oh..." I let out a surprised laugh, "I see Katniss is already dictating fashion."

"Yeah, she's an inspiration, don't you think?" He says it almost as a challenge.

"I do," I answer seriously. "There must be more then... why volunteer?"

"I think it's time for the game to mean something," he shrugs and smiles.

"Mean something?" I wonder, "that's pretentious,"

"A little," he chuckles again, "so I'd keep those eyes open, if I were you."

My eyes snap back at his face, he's smiling, proud of himself.

Why? Does he know something? Does Haymitch know something?

Before I get the chance to ask him anything, the Capitol anthem starts and the crowd cheers.

"I'm sure we'll meet again," he says before following the rest of the people out for President Snow's speech.

I'm a little stunned, it's Effie's call that snaps me out of it. I quickly join her, Katniss and Peeta out.

We all gather in front of the residence, waiting for the President Snow to come out. I turn around looking for Cal, only to make sure he doesn't sneak up on me again. I see him looking around, for me probably, so I quickly turn around getting closer to Katniss.

At last the President comes out on his balcony.

"Tonight, on this, the last day of their tour, I want to welcome our two Victors." He starts with his usual charming persona, two young people who embody our idealsof strength and valor. And I, personally, want to congratulate them on the announcement of their engagement."

Everyone cheers. Peeta and Katniss smile at the crowd around them.

"Your love has inspired us. And I know it will go on inspiring us every day for as long as you may live." He holds up his glass and the fireworks start and I turn around to look at them like everyone.

I sense Katniss holding my hand and turning around. I want to look at Snow too, but the way she starts to squeeze my hand tells me all I need to know...

He doesn't believe them.

It didn't work.

---------------

I'm sitting in an armchair staring at nothing in particular. My mind can't help but think about whatever we can do to make their story more believable, but nothing, absolutely nothing comes up.

The riots in the districts surely won't make him happy, which means it will be worse for everyone else.

Fuck.

My head snaps back as I hear footsteps coming, I let out a sigh when I notice it's just Katniss.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," she apologises.

"Don't worry about it," I wave her off, "can't sleep either?"

She shakes her head, I motion for her to sit with me.

"Do you think we ever had any chance?" She then asks me.

"I guess, the positive side of me really hoped... but the realistic side knew." I sigh, looking down at my own hands, "I'm afraid it was too late from the beginning. And I don't mean from what happen in 11... I mean from the moment you took out the berries, that made the districts feel something, these riots all over the place won't be pacify by a love story. Snow knows that."

"He asked me to convince him," she explains, "to convince him ours is true love."

"He never believed you." I directly say, "not for a second."

"Why ask me that then?"

"Control." I simply answer looking up at her with a serious expression. "Show you he has control."

"How did you end up living like this?" She asks, she seems genuinely interested, but I'm not ready to share that part of my life with her just yet.

I smile at her, a smile that doesn't reach my eye.

"Aw... Katniss, I thought you knew the difference between living" I turn serious again, looking her dead in the eyes," and surviving."

With that I stand up, grab a bottle of what I think is rum, and head to my room.

-----------

I stand by the doors waiting for Peeta, Katniss and Haymitch to get off the train. The thought of going back to normal is dreadful enough, going back alone is even worse, I don't want to think about it.

"Home sweet home," Haymitch declares as he nears.

"Don't be so eager to leave me," I joke, holding my hand out for him to shake, he takes and kiss the back of it.

"You know, it pains me deeply," he teases back and I chuckle.

"Take care of them, will you?" I ask quietly.

"You take care of yourself, will you?" He lets go of my hand and leans down to whisper into my ear, "and eyes open" He smiles one more time before getting of the train.

"You'll have to explain that to me properly one of these days," I tell him as I watch him go.

"Isn't his whole character just... cryptic?" I turn around seeing Peeta and Katniss.

"Or just constantly drunk." Katniss chimes in.

"He's cryptically drunk all the time," I smile, "so... you got everything?"

"Yeah, we're ready to get home." Peeta smile back at me.

"Good... Good." I let out a deep sigh, "it's been a pleasure assisting you two. I guess I'll see you at the next Hunger Games, mentors."

"Thank you for everything, Y/n." Peeta pulls me in for a quick hug before walking away.

"Bye," I wave then turn to Katniss, "you okay?"

"Yeah... I think so." She forces a small smile.

"I wish I could do more," I tell her honestly.

"Thanks,"

"Say hi to your family for me, alright?" I smile again and she nods.

Once Katniss is out of sight a Peacekeeper comes up to me.

"Yes?" I ask.

"Your presence has been requested back in the Capitol. We'll be leaving soon." He tells me.

"May I know who requested it?" I ask, tired. I already imagine who-

"President Snow."

Uh?

"Did he say why?"

The peacekeeper doesn't answer and walks away. I stand here dumbfounded, wondering what he might want from me.

Is it because of Katniss and Peeta?

Is it because of the riots in the districts?

Is it because of the Quartel Quell? Does he wants me to be more participant or?

Then a terrifying thought comes to mind...

------------

"You asked for me, sir?" I stand in front of his desk as he write something down.

"It came to my attention a rumour's veen going around regarding you, miss L/n." He starts, still not looking directly at me, "a merry one."

"Sir?" I ask, my throat instantly dry.

"Cal Kingslay apparently wants to marry you," he finally puts down the pen and looks at me with, what might seem, a genuinely happy expression, "That's a wonderful news."

"Is it?" I don't know what he wants from me.

"Oh yes, the people can't help but be thrilled about. the idea. I, myself, think it's great news. After the contributions the Kingslays gave to the games in these last years, it will show, not only to the Capitol, but the districts as well, that you are an active part of this system." He explains, the hint of a challenge in his eyes. Challenge me to say no, to refuse.

I really want to, I want to scream at him and just run away. Being sold to all rich people in the Capitol is not the life I want, but being tied to him... permanently, it's more terrifying.

But I have no choice.

All I can do is swallow my pride and take a deep shaky breath.

"I... how... how will it happen, sir?" I ask.

"You two will get engaged once I announce the Third Quarter Quell and get properly married after the crowing of the Victor. He will ask, you will happily say yes." He explains, satisfied with my compliance, then he goes back at the papers in front of him, "That's all."

I don't need him to tell me twice, I immediately walk out of his office, ready to go home and just let everything out.

"Oh, before you go," Snow's voice freezes me on the spot, "Plutarch Heavensbee asked for your company, you will be escorted to his house immediately." He informs me.

I shakily nod and walk out of his office where two guards make way.

-----------

"Do you want some tea?" Plutarch motion for me to sit at a big wooden table, "perhaps something stronger?"

I nervously nod as I sit.

He walks away, I hear him talking to someone before walking back into the room I'm in with two drinks in hand. He offers one to me and sits by the opposite side of the table.

"I told the guards to come back in an hour, we should have enough time" he smiles and I nod again, still not sure of what to expect.

Suddenly the lights go off and the room falls into deep darkness. I can still make out his face due to the lights coming from outside.

"What...?" I ask.

"You can never feel safer," he tells me.

"What's going on, Mr Heavensbee?" I ask, anxiety growing at every passing second.

"Tell me, miss L/n," he starts, voice a little quieter than before, "what do you know about district 13?"

[unluckilyimnot]

hihihihihihihihihi HOW r uUUuUuuu,u think u could take this request?😭 it’s about Sae, idk…imagine Y/N being flirted by her co-worker? Like he starts sending her gifts and all. How Sae would react?

if his s/o was flirted with - i.sae

m.list || rules

note: hiii thank you so much for your request <3 here's a little hc for you !

I don’t think he’s the type to get jealous easily bc damn the man that he is but he would be pissed off easily

you didn’t really mention it at first because you thought your colleague was only being nice

but he overheard a conversation on the phone with one of your friend and colleague and he didn’t hesitate to ask about it

“you were hiding it from me ?” yes you were because he would get salty but now you had to deal with it – and you can’t say that

you lose count how many time he rolled his eyes

“he’s just being nice” is your favorite answer even if you had to tell him how he brings you foods sometimes, to thank you

he’s suspicious, picture him lifting his eyebrows in a “are you for real” way, but you know what, that’s fine, you’re amazing it’s normal that people wants to be around you

but he still prepares your meal EVERYDAY since he heard about it. even if he has to stay up later than he should to do so and messed up his sleep schedules that is so dear to him 

sae does got a little more clingy in a way

he’s kinda trying harder as if, first, he needed too when he already does a lot for you, and second as if your colleague even had a chance with you

he’s less annoying, he jokes around less and is more cuddly 

he tries to spend more time with you even if he already does his best with his schedules 

he had take you to way too many date since you mention it, but you try to not bring it up because you know he would be sulky and never admit it 

but deep down you’re reallyyyy amused by the fact that he still tries to win you over someone you already doesn’t stand a chance

anyway, he tolerates it for a while, not that he asks much about nor do you talk about it, it’s not important for you either and he’s not being pushy

but if he does, that’s another story

i’m not saying he comes at work to blow that poor man’s face, but nearly

if he’s really not smart and send you a gift to your place and Sae falls on it at the entrance just know it ruined his day and that he’s now ready to make that poor man’s life feels like hell itself 

he would waits for you to come home before throwing it away, to say that he’s pissed is an understatement 

don’t mention it if he ever bringed you gifts or flowers at work ‘cause Sae would do his best to get him fired in one way or another 

he knows his worth and that being that angry at someone hitting on you means nothing compare to your relationship 

honestly be prepare to see him at your work to make things clear when he’s free because he will not let that pass like you do, he’s too prideful for that 

he’s not grabbing him by his shirt because he’s a respectful man but he will say the worse things heard on earth to that guys

you’re not flirting with his s/o 

“Know your place. Do that one more time and I won’t be that kind.” 

he’s acting up but the same night he’s all clingy and stuff, he won’t let you go even if he just cleared the situation 

he’s rather confident that he won’t happen again, yet he’s still a little bother in a corner of his mind, but you brush it off easily with a thank you and few kisses hihi 

he makes sure to ask about it as days pass to be sure that he doesn’t happen again but also make sure that your honest with him 

I hope you liked it! ♡

[n3ptun3e]

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ gentle hands ♡

Shisui who touches you oh so gently

• Fluff, Shisui Uchiha x fem!reader

•A/N: one more for you shisui stans☆〜（ゝ。∂）

It is a well known fact that the great shunshin no shisui passed most of his time training since he was a little boy, hands calloused by years of harsh training and multiple battles, muscles ripped with strength, strong legs that earned him his reputation across nations and messy curly hair accompanied by a broad nose and a warm grin. yes, that was Shisui. And although the boy was very dear to all, anyone with eyes could see how the Uchiha all but stuck to your side, arm draped across your shoulders as he leans close to your ear and whispers something that make the both of you laugh, always popping into existence, warm hands on your sides, scaring the shit out of you and anyone within range, ninjas tsking “kids these days”, making you blush and glare at him with a exasperated look on your face, him responding with a sheepish smile, chuckling, making it hard for you to contain your own, him reading you like a book and playfully squeezing your sides, a silent apology, there’s something endearing in the way he looks at you as his thumb slips underneath your shirt and gently rubs your waist, his warmth sending chills down your spine. “come on, don’t be so uptight! you should be used to it by now” he winks at you, letting you go, hands going to the back of his head as he asks you what you’re up to, filling you in in his last mission “really, i wish you’ve seen the way these people used katon in such a intriguing way in their daily lives. it really makes me wonder just how different yet similar we and people all across the world are..” he would ramble on and on, telling you all sort of interesting things he has come across, he just doesn’t want to stop talking to you🥺 asking you about your own missions and your opinion on this new technique he’s working on and what do you think about going to this new restaurant to try the food there? (sigh…you don’t even realize you’re on a date with how natural everything feels around him, it’s almost impossible to stay sad with him around, always trying to make you laugh somehow, giving you that dammed soft look each time he manages to make you laugh, making these stupid butterflies flutter on your stomach until it’s too late and you’re feeling his warm hands cupping your cheeks oh so gently, thumb sweeping across the soft skin, looking down at you with a warm smile on his face. it’s different from his usual smiles, a sort of quiet intimacy and tenderness on his face.)

Besides sometimes acting like a idiot he was born and raised in a well know and strict clan, he does know manners. always opening up the door for you, offering to pay for your meals together, always, always accompanying you home even though he knows you’re more than capable of taking care of yourself, he can’t help but worry okay? he just has this protective streak over you, all but following you around like a puppy, offering to carry your groceries, bags, whatever it is. he’s no show off but he’s pretty confident when it comes to his strength so he’ll stick around until you can’t handle it anymore:D

A/N: Mm i don’t know if i like this, i know it’s pretty incomplete but i wanted to give you guys something at least:D sorry for any spelling mistakes, those are just some random thoughts about him, i hope you guys like it~♡ btw i will be opening up asks since i want to write more for him but i have no idea what to actually write haha feel free to send me asks, but i can’t promise i WILL actually write your request since it’s only so my creativity can actually spark and make my head work^_−☆

[theflashesoflove]

obstacle I

Larissa Weems x f!reader (nsfw) – series

part I :: part ll :: ao3

summary: Could you be more careless? Talking to a stranger online and sharing the most intimate moments of your days with her? The way you trusted her was almost ridiculous, but the way she talked to you made you sure that this grown woman wouldn’t even consider harming you in some way. One would think you were a fool who would regret her messages one day, one would even point a finger at you and say how perverse all of it was. Luckily, no one knew. Except for Lydia, your mistress, to whom you granted not just your body, but also your heart.

a/n: i always dreaded writing series, but this woman inspires me so much that i'm finally up for the challenge. i hope i will be consistent with my writing enough to bring this story where i want it to be. filthy, angsty and gentle. i think there will be two or three more chapters and it is also crossposted on ao3. btw i have a vague idea of what architects do so if you notice some factual mistakes let's pretend that in my silly imaginary world things work this way. the names of the chapters are lyrics from interpol's 'turn on the bright lights' album (it's brilliant, a huge recommend if you like male manipulator music like i do haha). proofread, and i hope it doesn't sound as broken as i think it does. (bracing myself) let's set this little bird free into the wild.

general warnings/tags: unhealthy online relationship, dom!larissa x sub!reader dynamics, sexting, nudes, masturbation + angst and all that stuff to come

chapter word count: 4k

Part I: you are linked to my innocence

Sitting on the balcony, you admired the sun slowly crawling up from its slumber, painting the sky with faint yellow and pink shades, warming up the cool earth. The view before you made you smile. Perhaps having trouble sleeping had its benefits – you could admire such a beautiful sunrise and feel at peace for at least the next hour, before the world would wake up and start swirling around you, overwhelming and demanding. 

Thinking of someone who was also so very demanding, you pulled out your phone and started recording the serene scenery. You tried to hold your phone still, though it was hard because of the chilly wind that made you shiver. Ending the video, you opened the messenger and sent it to a woman who made your heart sing just like the morning birds sang, greeting the sun.

You scrolled up your message history with her for a bit, smirking. What a sweet little relationship you had, one time you would send her a beautiful view out of your window, the next time – a picture of you touching yourself in the most sinful way.

Couldn’t sleep again? and What a lovely view, she replied an hour later. Not as lovely as you, though, she added after.

﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉

Her name was Lydia and she had just the right way with her words. She would text you, Send me a picture, and you would rush out of your meeting to the bathroom to send her a selfie. She would text you, What a beautiful shirt you are wearing, unbutton it for me, and you would spend a bit more time in the bathroom sending her picture after picture. 

You didn’t know what she looked like. She rarely sent you pictures in return, and you had only one 10 seconds long video of her touching herself. Her fingers were slender, her nails were painted a burgundy red colour, and she had those plush thighs that you wanted to squeeze with your hands. She was a woman of exquisite taste – taste in music, in foods, in lingerie.

You never asked her for more. It was entirely your choice to reveal your face on one of the first videos you sent her. She once told you, Don’t call me by my name on those videos, call me your mistress. You obliged. You always did. An impulse to ask the woman if she could reveal her face bubbled up inside your chest from time to time, but you pushed it away, never willing to make her uncomfortable. Perhaps there was something she didn’t like about herself, perhaps she wanted to be more mysterious and enticing, perhaps she just needed a bit more time – and it had been a year! Never being a selfish one, you suppressed your questions and played by her rules. 

She knew a lot about your life. You didn’t realise that you barely knew about hers. You knew that her work was stressful enough to make her speak to you in an especially dirty way in the night, urging you to send new videos for her to let off steam. You could only imagine her, spread on her bed to your sinful sound and pleas. You would tell her, i wish i could see how pleased my mistress is right now, nudging her to send you a picture in return. The woman would just answer, Don’t doubt it, I am very pleased with my darling girl, thank you and end the conversation until the next morning. You knew that she played piano and was popular in high school, though a bit overshadowed by her best friend at the time. You knew that she liked long walks in nature, ice skating and that her favourite season was autumn. She never pressed you to share any details about your life, but you did it nonetheless. 

It all started rather accidentally, and you told her millions of times how glad you were that she found you. There was an old record player that you wanted to sell online, and you even gave out a Fleetwood Mac vinyl in addition to it for free. The woman contacted you, anonymous at that time, though she contacted you too late, and the record player was already sold. It didn’t stop the two of you from continuing the conversation, talking about music and antique pieces of furniture she adored. After that, everything escalated quickly – topics changing topics and bringing you into dynamics you didn’t know you would enjoy this much. She teased you a lot, and at first you acted shy and hesitant, bending under her dominance and unravelling your own fantasies over time. She wrapped you around her finger, and on one particular evening you sent her your first video. The woman made it clear that she was hopeful to receive more of those in the future. 

Could you be more careless? Talking to a stranger online and sharing the most intimate moments of your days with her? The way you trusted her was almost ridiculous, but the way she talked to you made you sure that this grown woman wouldn’t even consider harming you in some way. One would think you were a fool who would regret her messages one day, one would even point a finger at you and say how perverse all of it was. If you told any of your friends about Lydia, they would tell you that you went nuts. They would tell you to stop texting her immediately and delete the chat to destroy the blackmail material that you’d shared with a stranger. Luckily, no one knew. Except for Lydia, your mistress, to whom you granted not just your body, but also your heart.

Back in the day, you suggested moving the conversation from reselling website direct messages to a more convenient messenger, one that the woman hadn’t heard of before. It took her two days to create an account for contacting you there. Her profile picture was a bush of red flowers, her personal information included just a lyric of a song she liked, and all of it was only for your eyes to see. Not much, but her empty profile on an app which she signed in just for you never aroused any suspicions. Well, sometimes it did, but then she would ask you how your day went and the sweetness of the texts the two of you shared washed your worries away. 

In fact, it wasn’t all about sexting. You could see that she was genuinely interested and caring, and you didn’t send her pictures and videos every day, after all. Maybe… three times a week? Five if she was desperate. She woke up earlier than you if you managed to fall asleep the night before and always brightened your day from its beginning with a sweet ‘Good morning, darling’ message. She always wished you a good night and checked in throughout the day, answering your texts and moving the conversation forward. Sometimes she would even send you flowers, and a delivery man would call you and ask for the address. The man would appear on your porch with a delicate bouquet later, a card attached to the wrapping would say, ‘To my favourite girl – L’. You could only giggle and smile to yourself for the rest of the day. No matter how hard you tried to get her number to send something in return, the woman would always brush you off. You can send me a picture in return, she would text you. That was exactly what you would do next. 

You’d always start with pictures. On days when you felt especially good about yourself, you didn’t even wait for her to ask. Undressing, you would send her several pictures, losing yet another piece of closing on every photo. Sometimes it would take her too long to reply, and you would record a video for her in advance. There wasn’t any surface in your house that wasn’t caught on camera while you would thrust your fingers inside, making it all pretty and appealing to look at. The sounds you made were an absolute turn on for her, and you always ensured that you put on a good show. It wasn’t even necessary to try hard, you would just recall all the dirty messages she sent you over the course of your relationship, you would imagine how it would feel to be held by her, how those long fingers would pound into you, how her lips would tease your flushed skin. You had a good imagination, and it was enough. The tiniest bits of her that were available to you – all of it was enough, that was what you were trying to convince yourself of. A hopeless romantic you were, blindly expecting that one day she would surprise you and reveal herself, and tell you how much she wanted to meet you in person. Still, it never came. That day never came, and you tried not to overthink it. You were supposed to be grateful for what you already had, after all.

﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉

I have a very important meeting today and I just know that it won’t go easy on me. Can you please bend over your desk for me this evening, dearest? Lydia texted you a few hours later after receiving the video. 

of course, mistress, you answered playfully. your boss doesn’t give you a break, huh? ;)

Thank you, darling girl, I’ll be waiting, she replied, ignoring the message about her boss. 

You made sure to text her during your lunch break, checking if she didn’t forget to eat in between her piles of work. She told you that she had a snack and it was very nice of you to bother. A couple of hours later she asked how were you feeling since you didn’t get any sleep last night. You told her that you were running on energy drinks and green tea and she jokingly scolded you for the energy drinks part. It made you bite your lower lip, how caring she was for you in return.

The desk in your office was never neat. Scattered papers, your laptop always on charge, heated up with architect software. You hunched over the plan with a pencil in your hand, making sure that the plumbing system of the building made sense at all. Working in a reconstruction and restoration company, you never really got a chance to do the part you studied for in the first place. Always checking other architects’ plans and fixing their mistakes for them, not having the opportunity to do something of your own. Your days were filled with somewhat ridiculous tasks yet even those managed to make you feel the struggle of workload.

The surface of your desk shuddered when your phone buzzed with a reminder about forthcoming meeting, and you straightened, feeling a familiar ache in your lower back. You threw on a jacket, took your phone and notebook and left your office, politely smiling at coworkers passing by. 

The meeting went as smoothly as always – at least you enjoyed the working atmosphere of the company. Your boss talked about the updates in the company policy and proceeded to inform the staff about upcoming projects. He announced that the Principal of Nevermore school contacted them for the reconstruction work, and your coworkers didn’t even try to hide their opinions on outcasts and how infamous the school was, especially after the causality that happened a few months ago. Not paying attention to their grumbling, you thought it would be a great opportunity to finally show your skills, and your boss thought so too.

“Y/N, you will take over this project. I’m passing you the papers with details, I feel like the time to shine has come!” he said, approaching your seat with a folder in his hands. Some of your coworkers sighed in relief, glad that they wouldn’t be involved with Nevermore. It made you wince – you never thought badly of outcasts like the majority of others did, the idea of being hostile towards someone just because they were different made you nauseous like it would do to any decent person. “The Principal insists on cooperation, and I have to warn you – you will probably have to visit the site more times than would be necessary for a usual project. I hope it won’t be a problem,” he said with a light smirk.

You smiled and bit your cheek, anticipation tingling on your fingertips. “No, it won’t be a problem. Thank you,” you uttered, taking the folder. “When am I supposed to start?” 

“Next week. We arranged a meeting with Principal Weems, she said it was very important for the school, and I quote, ‘to thoroughly negotiate the reconstruction process’.” 

The school was enormous, but the work was connected to a relatively small part of it, a tower that was destroyed recently. You spent the rest of your evening studying the documents – an old plan of the school that included the tower. It was impressive how old this building was. Besides, you would be taking part in preserving and reconstructing the historic site, the whole prospect of reconstructing a part of Nevermore ensemble sounded like a dream coming true. The fact of such a project being granted to you to work on would be unbelievable if deep down you didn’t know the reason for it. It seemed that no one from your company wanted to work with Nevermore, but the school was about to pay generously, so they had to find someone to 'deal with the outcasts'. How foolish your coworkers were for declining such an opportunity, you thought, smiling to yourself.

﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉

Back home, you didn’t bother to change into your indoor clothes, knowing full well that you would need to be completely naked soon anyway. Having had a quick meal and relaxed on the couch, closing your eyes for a little too long than you planned, you finally entered your bedroom and started setting a scene. Sometimes the lengths you went to make a perfect video for Lydia made you embarrassed, but how could you do it any other way? The woman’s attention was worth all of your efforts. You cleaned up your desk, returning previously forgotten mugs to the kitchen, shoving papers into the desk drawer and moving the pile of laundry laying on the floor out of frame. The curtains had to be closed for the last sun rays entering your bedroom not messing with the lighting on camera, the cosy shine of a garland and the dim light of a bedside lamp would be enough to illuminate your form in the most lovely way. You checked your reflection in the mirror and wiped away a few particles of mascara from under your eyes. For a second you tensed, your insecurity taking over. Would Lydia like you as much if she saw you in person? Wouldn’t she be disappointed that a flawless image you tried to create for her wasn’t as flawless in real life? Perhaps that was why she didn’t want to meet up in the first place? Did she already know that wasting the time of her busy schedule would completely disenchant her perception of you? You took a deep breath and shook your head, backing off from the mirror. It was alright. She liked you. Still you desperately wanted to be perfect for her. 

The next thing you did was distract yourself with having fun and a bit of a struggle with setting up a phone stand out of books. After you were sure that your phone wouldn’t slide down halfway through the recording, you set a 10 seconds timer and started slowly unbuttoning your shirt to catch the process on camera. The photo turned out just the way you wanted from the first try, revealing the right amount of skin and a glimpse of your lingerie. It didn’t even matter in the end, but you were always attentive to details. Completely taking off your shirt, you grabbed your phone and took the second picture – a close up of your lacy bra, nipples visible through the fabric, collarbones calling to be showered with your mistress’ kisses. The sound of timer counting down rang across your bedroom once again, you unhooked your bra to send it down onto the floor and stepped back, already topless, unzipping your pants and craning your neck to the side with a soft smile on your lips. Oh, how much you loved spoiling Lydia even if sometimes it stressed you out to the point of worrying about your imperfections. Your pants made their way onto the floor as well, out of the frame, of course, and as the next timer started counting down, you rushed to your desk to bend over it prettily, exposing your cheeks for the last photo. Then, you returned to your phone and sent pictures to Lydia, smiling to yourself at the thought of her ending her tedious day of work and seeing your message.  

It took you a fair amount of time to warm yourself up for the video by bringing yourself to the edge with a vibrator, uncomfortably sprawled in your chair and growing hotter with every second. You barely managed to stop yourself from climaxing, removing the vibrator from your clit and standing up on wobbly legs to continue your filming session. The phone was settled into its makeshift stand again, the sun finally settled, not peeking through the curtains anymore, which made the scene look especially intimate in the dimmed lights, and you were ready to absolutely ruin yourself for Lydia. After pressing the record button, you bent over your desk once again, and massaged your cheeks, squeezing and pulling to reveal your glistening sex. Having satisfied your need to tease the woman a little more, you spread your legs wider and took a toy that rested on the desk the whole time.

Teasing your wet entrance with the toy, you pleaded into the silence of your room, “Oh, please, fuck me… fuck me, mistress, please…”

By the time you finished, you were worn out – the position was rather uncomfortable, especially when you had to work with your hand from behind. You pressed the side of your face against the surface and sighed happily, “Thank you, mistress, you are so good to me.” There was a deep red mark of the edge of the desk on your knee, the wood was digging into your skin almost the whole time you were filming after you decided to move your leg higher for better access and view. The awkward scene of you grunting as you lifted yourself from the desk and padded over to your bed to stop the recording was cropped out later. 

An hour passed by, and Lydia finally answered your messages, saying that she was done with the meeting and work for the day, ready to witness you coming undone for her. 

You look absolutely ravishing, dear. Let me see how you used that toy on your pretty pussy?

are you already in bed? You asked, trying to withhold the sweet video a little longer.

No, darling. I’m taking a bath right now, she answered, arousing the urge in you to ask her if she could give you at least a glimpse of her body basking in the warm water. You didn’t ask her. 

I need you, came a text seconds later, and you couldn’t resist her anymore. 

The video went on for about 11 minutes, you didn’t know if you should have made it shorter or longer for her liking. You wondered how long it would take her, you wondered what she would use to pleasure herself and how it would feel to be with her in that moment, spreading shower gel all over her breasts and teasing her with your thigh pressed against her core. You wondered how it would feel to just settle in her lap, wrap your hands around her shoulders and hide your face in her neck, revelling in her presence.

The waiting after sending her those kinds of videos was the most tortuous one, you didn’t yet know if she liked the video or not, you didn’t know if it met her expectations, you didn’t know if it even made her wet and eager to pleasure herself. Sometimes you were afraid that she wouldn’t even bother to watch it or to reply to you ever again. Fifteen minutes later, you got a response – 1 attachment. Your heart somersaulted against your ribcage, and you hesitated for a moment before tapping on the notification, prolonging the excitement of not knowing what she sent you.

Those beautiful thighs. Oh, how much you thought about them wrapping around your head, how many times you rewatched the only video she sent you, remembering the patterns of stretch marks along her skin. She looked especially soft and rosy, her wet pubic hair neatly covered her sex, and the foam melted around her body, glistening on camera. The water was steamy and her hand rested on the rim of the bathtub – you could only assume that she was completely spent. 

i would eat you out until those gorgeous legs are shaking, you texted after a while of staring, unable to think straight.

Not before I would be done edging you for hours, she cheekily answered. And before you could think of a suitable response in the same dirty fashion, she sent her next message, Thank you, dearest. I don’t know what I did to deserve you.

A smile spread across your features, so wide it almost started to hurt. You plumped down on the bed and nuzzled your nose into the pillow, vainly seeking her scent that was never there in the first place. Contented that the woman felt about you this way, you closed your eyes and tried to imagine her. Imagine, imagine, imagine – it was the only thing you could do. In that moment, you hopelessly wanted to press yourself into her, to cling to her body and dissolve in her warmth. How much you yearned for her to give you real proximity, to caress your sides as she would bury her face in your hair and fall asleep next to you, breathing peacefully. Or she would let you lie down on her chest and listen to her calming heartbeat, holding your hand and circling your skin with her thumb. 

A couple of red heart emojis were sent Lydia’s way and you locked your phone, turned on your back and looked at the ceiling. Fulfilled and deprived at the same time.

by the way, i was given a new project today! You texted Lydia five minutes later, remembering that you forgot to share the exciting news. i’m so happy, they finally gave me the big girl stuff to do haha

That’s amazing, dear. I’m very proud of you, Lydia answered, making you blush. 

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The next Monday you were on your way to Nevermore – it felt very exciting to leave the office for once to see the site of reconstruction. To your surprise, it wasn’t that long of a ride, you expected the school to be more distant from Jericho than it was. Driving along the road that was framed by thick forest made you want to pull over for a second to take a picture of towering trees, branches tranquilly swinging in the wind, the sun peaking through the leaves. However it would be a bad idea, unless you wanted to be late for the meeting more than you already were.

The building of Nevermore astonished you from the first glance. A dark fantasy, elaborate decorations and old-fashioned high ceilings. You arrived at the brink of evening – Principal Weems didn’t have time for the meeting until 5 p.m. – and the golden hour made the school look even more otherworldly. You didn’t need a tour since you had an insight on what the building was like inside, and the location of classrooms and halls didn’t really change over decades. Approaching the Principal’s office, you adjusted the collar of your shirt and fixed your hair – this was serious, you had to make a good impression on the client. 

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a/n: oh, larissa... honey, you've got a big storm coming

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Candy Girl 4

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as cheating, age gap, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: as you’re about to take the next step with your boyfriend, doubts begin to arise. (short!plus!reader)

Characters: Thor (boyfriend’s dad/silverfox)

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself. <3

After a quick flight, both thankful to Thor and embarrassed that he witnessed his son’s behaviour, you don’t know if you ever want to go back. As much as you love Magni, you’re not sure if it’s worth it. He never seems to want to do anything but play video games or sex. The latter remains a touchy subject for both of you. 

You’ll let Magni cool off, and yourself. 

This isn’t the end. You would know if it was. You send him your usual texts. Good mornings, good nights, and check in when you can. His lack of response isn’t unusual. He’s probably playing around with his bike again. You wonder if he’s figured out how to put it back together yet. 

The days pass in a blur. You have work to keep you busy. With summer in full swing, you have more than enough driving around to do. 

Between deliveries, your mind wanders. You’ll have to talk to him face-to-face, get this sorted out. You're not mad at him. It was a bad morning and a strange night. You can move past it. Right? 

You grab the next order and check the address as you get in your front seat. Huh, it’s in Magni’s neighbourhood. Maybe you can swing by and surprise him. 

You turn the engine and blast your stereo. Rihanna pumps from the speakers, a bit scratchy, but still a bop. You hunch over the wheel as you follow the rush hour traffic, tapping the breaks as you crawl along. Finally, you get to a turn off and dip down some side streets.  

You turn down the A/C as the car begins to shake. You don’t use the air much, your old beater doesn’t much like any extra stress. You turn down the volume and give an anxious look to the venting in the hood. That’s not smoke, you’re just imagining things. 

Before the job, you couldn’t tell left from right but now the whole city is imprinted in the back of your head. You know which orders to make quickly and ones where you can leave the car unlocked while you run up to the door. Magni’s is the latter. 

You roll down the avenue lazily and come up before a big white house, squinting at the number on the front door. You get out and stretch, just a few more hours. You grab the insulated bag and the paper bag with the cans of soda. You bounce up the front steps and balance it all as you ring the bell. 

You wait, glancing around at the lush greenery. It’s kind of lame to dream of living in a place like this. Basic, your friends tease, but you just want to know what it’s like. Maybe it’s just as bad as what you have, just painted up nice. 

You can’t really complain. You have a roof and food and job. Could be a lot worse. 

The door opens and jolts you from your internal turmoil. You blink and step back, once more looking around. You know for sure you didn’t go to the wrong house. Thor’s house isn’t even the same colour. So what is he doing there? 

“Ah, little one, I was hoping it would be you,” he booms. 

“Huh?” You make a dumb face. 

“I thought it’d be a fun surprise,” he grins, “my friend’s,” he points up then reaches into his back pocket, “they suggested pizza and I told them I knew just the place.” 

“Oh, wow, thanks,” you smile and unzip the bag. 

“Hmm,” he hums as he counts out bills, “funny, they got a little thing like you carrying around all that.” 

“Mr. Odinson,” you chirp, “I’m not that small.” 

“Suppose most people are too me,” he grins and holds out the money, “keep the change.” 

You accept the bills with the pizza against your hip and the paper bag on top. You blink dumbly at the folded bills. He can’t be serious. 

“Mr. Odinson.” 

“Thor,” he purrs. 

“Thor, er, I think you miscounted.” 

“I didn’t, I have generous friends,” he shrugs, “we put in together. Now,” he reaches to take the paper bag, “allow me to relieve your burden.” 

You gulp and tuck away the money. You finish unzipping the bag and slide out the pizzas. It’s awkward as the boxes are so big. He gets closer to help and you slide them right into his hand. As you finish unsheathing them, he steps back. 

“How about you have a slice before you go?” He offers, “you have much to go?” 

“Halfway through,” you fold the empty bag against your stomach, “that’s real nice, but they time us.” 

“Oh, too bad,” he nods, “well, I suppose I’ll see you... haven’t lately. Not that I can blame you.” 

“Oh, uh, I’ve been real busy,” you say, not a complete lie. Still, you have been avoiding it. 

“Yes, you work hard. Wish I could say the same of Magni.” 

“Sorry,” you frown. 

“Sorry? For him? He’s not your responsibility. Only myself to blame, I am his father,” he sighs, “anyhow, don’t let me keep you.” 

“Thanks again,” you try to brighten up. “I’m... I’m going to talk to Magni tomorrow. It's my day off.” 

“Ah, yes, well, I hope it isn’t a waste of time,” he resigns and gives a wave. 

He stays at the door as you turn away, his words ominous as they leave an unsettling flutter in your chest. You hop down the steps and open the back door of your car. You toss the empty bag inside and close it, getting in the front.  

You shove the key in the ignition and twist. The engine rumbles but doesn’t flip. You huff and try again, leaning your weight into the effort. As the motor kick, you look up to find Thor still watching you from the porch. 

The engine turns and you sigh in relief. As you go to shift into reverse, there’s a pop, then a bag, and several more noises. The exhaust puffs one last time and the engine dies. No! No! Not now baby. We made it so far. 

You get out as black smoke plumes around the edges of the hood and you hear a shuffle from the porch. Shoot, shoot, shoot. Thor puts the pizza down on the bench and hurries down to you. As if you haven’t embarrassed yourself enough in front of him. 

“You alright?” He asks. 

“Yeah, fine,” you pout, “I’m not worried about me.” 

“Hm, may I?” He gestures to the hood. You shrug. 

He pops it open and moves the stick to prop it up. He waves away the smoke and squints through it. You cross your arms and stand back. You wouldn’t know where to begin. 

“Hmm, lucky it wasn’t a full blown fire. Fuel lines are rotten,” he says and moves out of the path of the smoke. “One finally burst.” 

“Oh,” you mope, “no...” 

“Sorry, little one, it’ll need a professional.” 

“Uh, at least... I guess the tip will help with that,” you sniff, “but... I gotta work. What am I gonna tell Karl?” 

“Karl?” He echoes curiously. 

“My manager,” you utter, “and my parents...” You look at him, “sorry, this isn’t your problem.” 

“I would gladly take it on,” he assures you, “why don’t you call Karl, tell him you’re having some difficulties, you can’t finish your shift.” 

“Urgh,” you frame your forehead in frustration, “but...” 

“I know someone who can look at the car. I’ll give him a call.” 

“Oh gee,” you huff and turn your head up, dropping your hands. “This isn’t happening.” 

“Don’t worry, little one, I will take care of it. Please, it’ll be alright.” 

You look at him again. It isn’t his responsibility and you shouldn’t let him but you don’t have much of a choice. What else are you going to do? Borrow Magni’s broken motorcycle? 

“Right, I’ll... I’ll call my boss.” 

“Please, I don’t like to see you upset,” he says, “call him then have some pizza and I’ll take you to mine. You can make up with Magni, eh? At least that’s something.” 

“Thank you, Mr. Odinson,” you give a bittersweet smile, “really, you don’t have to do all that.” 

“Ah, but why wouldn’t I?” He winks and turns away, “Bucky!” 

He stomps up the steps and pulls open the door, the pizza forgotten on the bench. He calls the same name again and you take out your phone. At least Karl is a nice guy. He’ll let you make it up once you get your car running again. 

[blue-jisungs]

Hey how are you!!! Hope you're doing amazing I always love your fics and now that i know you are also taking one piece requests I am taking the step of actually sending requests cause i don't really have much of an imagination when it comes to k-pop idols i just read the fics but never had ideas of my own but as an anime watcher i do have lot of ideas when it comes to my fav characters🥹

Feel free to ignore my request if it's too much

So as you mentioned that you were in skypedia arc meaning you have completed alabasta meaning you know ace😁

So i was wondering if you would be able to write a modern au where ace and luffy meet go to a cafe where the reader is the owner and ace falls for the reader first like he loves her food and wants to thank her and then is completely blown and head over heels for her when he see's them and talk with them it would be amazing if the reader is gender neutral so that everyone can enjoy it thanks for going throught this hope you can do it take care!!!!!!!

a way to man’s heart…

# author's note ... IM SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG BUT IM SO HAPPY FOR SOME OP REQS:( i hope this meets ur expectations!!!! :D

# extras ... a lot of food; gn! reader; modern au :D

“so, luff, today’s all about you. the food is on me!” ace grinned and patted his younger brother’s back. luffy’s eyes widened and sparkled with childish joy.

“you’re really the best, bro! can i pick the place too? there’s a new cafe that has opened up–” luffy started.

“your wish is my command” ace hummed and the younger one almost jumped out of his shoes, excitement over the roof.

well, it’s not everyday when ace visited his brother. as he moved out for university, they lost the ability to hang out that often. but it was summer, meaning ace could return to his hometown and his family.

“sanji went there already! he said the food was delicious – and ya know, he’s a cook! he knows the deal. he also said something about the service people… but i didn’t really care…” luffy put a pointing finger on his chin “it’s not that popular though… i hope they are open…”

ace listened with amusement to his little brother, soft smile on his lips. he missed him a bit more than he’d like to admit – the absence of his energetic yells was almost crushing in his quiet, lonely apartment.

upon arriving, they noticed it’s a very small and almost hidden from the society’s view cafe.

luffy barged in, doors swinging open, a sound of a doorbell ripping through the air.

it was empty inside, only soft sound of jazz music filling the room.

“yahoo! anyone here?” luffy hummed, looking around. then he came up to the check out, eyeing the menu. ace went to pick a seat.

a gentle voice spoke out, drawing the brothers’ attention.

“yes, welcome, come in! how can i help you?” the waiter asked with a happy smile. ace checked his phone upon realizing his not getting any say in the food choice anyway.

“can i see the menu?”

after what it felt like ages, luffy came back. buzzing with excitement, he tapped ace’s souldwr repeatedly.

“that lovely person gave us a food testing deal, so i ordered literally everything! isn’t it just the best day ever?” the younger one grinned, giggling boyishly.

ace frowned and turned his head to look at the cashier but they were gone. it was a bit suspicious but he didn’t want to burst his brother’s bubble. shrugging, he put his phone away and focused on luffy.

after a while, the waiter brought all the food that took up all the space on the table.

“are you sure you’ll eat everything?” the waiter asked and ace looked up, suddenly struck by their beauty. the name tag read ‘y/n’ with a small heart next to it.

“duh!” luffy puffed his chest proudly and dug in, not realizing how mesmerised his brother was.

“enjoy your meal, then! if you need anything else just let me know” you smiled and went back behind the counter.

ace smirked, an idea blooming in his head, and started eating as well.

he was a good lover, that was no lie. he has eaten lots and lots of delicious meals but those… those tasted like heaven. this carrot cake or rice pudding… could top sanji’s cooking, for sure.

there’s a saying “the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach” for a reason.

while exchanging joyous nods with luffy, ace knew he’ll leave this cafe with more than a full stomach.

“um, excuse me?” ace called and walked up to the check out, drumming his fingers against his wallet.

you came from the storage room, wiping your hands against your apron. a bright smile painted on your lips.

“yes?”

“i’d like to order another thing” ace smiled and with the corner of his eye he noticed how his words peaked luffy’s interest.

“mhm, of course! and what would it be?” you asked, looking at him interested. he (and his brother) were definitely unusual clients.

“two cups of cappuccino and an orange juice. and a dessert… of your choice, y/n” he said smugly and leaned against the counter, his muscular arm flexing.

your eyes widened… then your brows frowned and nose scrunched. ace giggled upon your reaction and winked.

“you should join us, y/n” ace hummed and then realized one thing: you’re at work “oh, i mean, unless the owner minds it but i can take the blame”

“oh, no. there will be no need for that. i’m the owner and i will certainly don’t mind” you sent him a soft smile and saw his lips turn into an o in awe “i’ll bring the coffee and be right back”

“ace, can i have your brownie muffin?!” luffy yelled.

in a blink of an eye you arrived, steaming cups of coffee and an orange juice. placing them down on the table, squeezing the dessert too, you pulled up a chair and sat down.

“i hope you enjoyed your food?” you looked expectantly at luffy.

“my friend, if i could marry a meal… i’d marry them all!” the younger brother cheered and you laughed.

ace’s heart melted – the sound of your laughter was the cutest sound ever.

“thank you so much, i really appreciate it” you hummed, grabbing your coffee cup. ace did the same and his heart skipped a beat when he saw that you made a heart out of foam at the top of his beverage.

“so you’re the owner? is it hard to own a cafe?” he asked before taking a sip.

you chatted with the brothers for a long time, occasionally pausing to serve the other customers that would come in. or to deliver more food for luffy.

ace fell for you with each word, gesture… everything you did.

before you realized it was the closing hour, sun setting behind the windows.

“we’ll get going, this guy has an important exam that he has to cram for!” luffy whined, puffing his cheeks and pointing at ace “i’d love to stay longer…”

“feel free to visit me whenever! don’t tell it to anyone but you might just be my favorite customers” you winked and luffy chuckled, packing his stuff.

“do you need any help though? we made a mess…” ace asked, looking at the table with empty dishes (and some stains from luffy’s messy eating)

“no, no, don’t worry. i don’t want to keep you busy. good luck with cramming!” you grinned.

“thank you” ace sent you a warm smile and pulled out his wallet to leave the payment since you already told them what the checkout is going to be (you didn’t mention you included a huge discount too).

when you came back from the kitchen where you put away the dirty dishes, the brothers were gone.

you walked up to take another part of the dishes when something caught your eye.

next to the bill there was a napkin with something scribbled on it.

thank you for satisfying my bro’s wolffish appetite! however i’d prefer to hung out with you without this rascal… call me? <3

xxx-xxx-xxx

masterlist <3

taglist. @eternalgyu ,, @haecien